The Dark Fire Chronicles: Ember and Shade
by Viari
Summary: Darth Vader escaped his final battle with Obi-Wan Kenobi unscathed and discovered his twin children. Nineteen years later, the hope of a galaxy has all but died. Will the Imperial Prince and Princess fight for freedom... or the dark side? 0 BBY, AU OT
1. Prologue

**The Dark Fire Chronicles  
**Part One: Ember and Shade

Prologue

_He should have crawled from the pit._

_In his most horrendous of nightmares, he saw himself sliding toward the molten lava, his body burning away into almost nothing. The terrifying revelation that he should have been nearly consumed, only to survive as a half man. His transformation should have been complete._

_Then he would wake and remember that he had never fallen to the flames._

* * *

_0 BBY_

Javan Madai stared across the black table, his body perfectly still. _I'm as much a diplomat as anyone in here. _The young man fought the urge to tap his fingers on the smooth table, a nervous habit he'd acquired sometime in the past. With practiced patience, he allowed his gaze to travel around the table and analyze each of the twelve men seated. The members of Javan's delegation sat with an air of quiet anticipation, even fear. The bureaucrats opposite Javan were for the most part a group of pudgy, balding men. _I'm more a diplomat than any of these hypocrites. _Each of them had the look of someone confident in their ability to succeed simply because they considered themselves leaders. Javan scanned the Imperial delegates. His eyes stopped on the two members who contrasted with the rest of the group.

_Make that eleven men and one woman._

A head shorter than the smallest man in the room, the girl across from Javan was barely nineteen. Her long chocolate hair was braided and laced with fine silver bands, her big brown eyes keenly perceptive of the atmosphere of the entire room. Her petite frame was clothed in an elegant blue dress made from the finest silks money could buy. She dripped with majesty and influence, a rare accomplishment for one so young. But maybe it wasn't so surprising considering who she was seated next to.

"Senator Organa, the Emperor knows of several Rebel cells operating on your planet." The Sith Lord on the girl's left side always knew how to get to the point. Javan had to give him that much credit.

Senator Bail Organa returned the Sith's stare. "Lord Vader, I wish I could be of more help, but I do not have contact with these supposed Rebel cells. If they exist, we on Alderaan have not experienced problems with any of them."

Darth Vader also differed in appearance from the rest of the Imperials. Clothed in black robes and a billowing cloak, he was an intimidating figure, unlike the pompous politicians accompanying him. For the past two decades, the Sith had hid his face beneath the voluminous hood of his famous dark cloak, but on rare occasions he let his face show. This meeting was one of those occasions. Vader's expression was colder than that of a lifeless stone statue. Javan imagined that it would be easier to face the Sith if he wore a mask of some kind or kept his face hooded. At least he wouldn't have to watch the handsome, cruel face grow darker with suppressed fury. Somehow a Sith's anger was much worse than anyone else's.

"Organa, I grow tired of your games. One day you'll be sorry that you housed these traitors." Vader's dark blue eyes flashed icily. "When that day comes, do not expect clemency. You will be shown none."

Javan twitched uncomfortably. He admired the senator for his courage in facing the Sith and his Imperials, but the young Alderaanian feared that even Bail was losing influence in the Senate.

Of course, no one had much influence in the Senate anymore. Not unless their name was Palpatine.

"I will always give help to those who ask for it," Senator Organa replied calmly. Javan could hear the unspoken words: _"including Rebels." _He guessed that Vader had picked up on the hint as well.

"Very well," the Sith growled. "We have no further business here." He motioned for the Imperial bureaucrats to rise. Extending one arm, he turned to the girl at his side. "Come, Leia." She glanced at Senator Organa, not without compassion, then took the Sith's arm and followed him out of the room, leaving the Alderaanians in cold silence.

Javan looked down at his hands, then turned to face Bail. "Cousin, I do not think—"

"Please, Javan," the senator interrupted gently. "What was said cannot be undone." He rested one hand on his young cousin's shoulder. "Let us return home."

.


	2. Chapter One: Separate Strands

Chapter One: Separate Strands

* * *

_Concentration_, the Imperial Prince thought reluctantly, _is the key to mastery. _He dropped low to the ground, narrowly avoiding a sharp kick from his opponent.

_Or something like that._

"You're not keeping your focus." The red-haired girl standing over him frowned. She held herself in a fighting stance, her entire body coiled. The prince sighed.

"I can't think straight today." He slowly relaxed his muscles, wiping his sweaty brow.

The girl's green eyes flashed. "You're not supposed to think. You're supposed to _feel_."

Sixteen-years-old and she thought she knew everything. Why did he have to train with her anyway? "Mara, don't lecture me." He reached for a dark cloak lying on the floor and began to fasten it around his neck. He didn't need to give her an excuse. If his visions were bothering him again, it was certainly none of her business. "I've had enough for today."

Mara Jade was indignant. "Luke, you can't quit now! We still have another hour!" She put her hands on her hips and attempted to stare him into submission.

Luke was too old for silly pouts. But he had the feeling that if he didn't finish the session, he'd get an earful later. And not from Mara.

_That's what I get for being the son of a Sith Lord._

"You don't have to spend every waking moment in training, you know," he mumbled as he set his cloak back on the floor. He felt her annoyance increase.

"It's an honor to—"

"I know, I know." Luke rolled his clear blue eyes. "It's an honor to serve the Emperor." _And to train every second of the day in order to become his personal slave and assassin. _"Shall we continue?" He readied himself in the usual fighting style, reaching for the invisible energy field that made him and his family so special.

Mara allowed a quick grin to flash across her otherwise cool face. "Whatever you say, Your Highness." With lightning speed, she pounced.

.

* * *

.

The bar was hot, noisy, and crowded – everything a bar should be. But that did not make Aari Zalash like the place any more than she already did, which was not at all. Most of her jobs sent her to wormholes like these, though, so she continued to go.

It would have helped if every male in the cantina would just leave her alone, she thought to herself. A particularly drunk and dirty humanoid slumped into the seat next to her, licking his wet lips and staring her up and down. Before he could even move his mouth to speak, Aari had a blaster pressed against his bulging stomach. "Get lost," she hissed. The man got up as quickly as his drunken stupor would allow. Muttering unintelligibly under his breath, he stalked off to another corner of the room.

Aari shook her head, placing her blaster carefully in its holster. When would these guys ever learn? Did they think she came to filthy cantinas hoping to pick up the first intoxicated ruffian she could find? It was the drink, she reminded herself. Which was why she never drank in these bars. Ordering a drink was fine, so as not to seem suspicious, but actually consuming it was another story. She prided herself in always having her wits about her.

_Where is that no good thief? _

He was late, as usual. And he probably wouldn't be able to pay her in full, yet again. Aari sighed. So much for a job. She wondered why she kept returning to the stupid creep. _Why didn't I just stay on Corellia with the rest of the street urchins? At least I wouldn't be in this awful place. _If that damn thief didn't arrive soon…

"Hey there, beautiful."

Aari reached for her blaster instinctively and grabbed someone's hand instead. She shook it off and looked up into a pair of cloudy gray eyes. "Don't do that again," she growled.

The young man raised one dark eyebrow. "You know I will." He settled himself in the booth next to her. "Been waiting long?" He met Aari's smoldering gaze. "Never mind."

"Give me back my blaster," Aari commanded. The man reluctantly handed her the weapon. "And now tell me why you always send me to these hellholes to wait for you. It's getting very old very fast."

The young man chuckled softly. "All in good fun, my dear Aari. It's rather entertaining, watching you send those slimeballs packing."

"You act like you're better than them." Aari glowered.

"Well of course I am." He smiled cockily. "I'm sitting here next to you without a blaster slammed into my side, aren't I?"

"That can be arranged."

"Come now, Aari. Is that any way to speak to the man who has provided you with every smuggling job you've taken over the past three years?" He feigned an expression of insulted pride.

"You are the most irritating man I've ever met." Aari kept her face impassive, her voice as hostile as she could manage.

"What else would you expect from Vic Phancil?" He smiled again, revealing two rows of perfectly straight white teeth. "My sole purpose in life is to annoy you." He paused for a moment. "And to get stacks of credits, but that's beside the point." He absently played with the cuff of his jacket sleeve.

Aari sighed again. Vic was impossible, to say the least. "What's the job this time?"

"One of those Hutt crime lords wants a shipment of spice. He's still looking for a regular ship and captain, after he had to get rid of the last one."

"You know I never take permanent jobs, Vic."

"I know, Aari. But you might like this one. Jabba the Hutt pays well."

"If he pays at all, unlike someone I know." This time it was Aari's turn to raise her eyebrow in scrutiny. "I believe I'm still waiting for full payment from the last shipment."

"Hey! Can I help it if I'm a lousy middleman?"

"Maybe I should deal with these goons personally."

Vic's expression shifted to one of concern. "No, I wouldn't do that. Aari, these guys are criminals—"

"So am I, technically."

"I don't mean just breaking the law. Crime lords like these don't have a conscience. If you screw up, they won't think twice about bumping you off. At least with me as a mediator, you don't have to worry about it. I thought you would have figured that out by now." Vic ran a hand across the back of his neck.

Aari stared at him silently for a moment before speaking. "Well, I still want my money."

"You'll get it."

"I'd better." Aari picked up her full glass of whatever it was and swirled it around, watching the crimson liquid splash against the sides. "So what do I need to do?"

Vic grinned. "That's my girl." Aari shot him a murderous look. "You can pick up the shipment in the space lanes over Rodia. You don't even need to go planetside. Sound good?"

"Sounds suspicious."

"Everything sounds suspicious to you."

"Everything usually is. Where is the spice coming from?"

"Kessel, where else?"

Aari rested her head in her palms. "The Imps won't be happy."

"When have the Imps ever been happy?" Vic picked up Aari's drink and took a sip. "Not bad. You should try it."

"Maybe some other time," Aari replied indifferently. "Next you'll be asking me to make the Kessel Run itself."

"If you feel up to it. I heard Solo made the run in less than twelve parsecs."

"In that ship of his? It's a flying hazard, Vic. I'll believe it when I see it." The young smuggler made sure her holster was secure as she prepared to get up. "So I'm picking this spice up when?"

"As soon as you can get there. They'll be waiting for a few days. You'll have time."

"I should, considering we're on Bothawui." The young woman settled back into her seat, waiting to see if her middleman had anything else to tell her. "I never thought I'd see a filthy cantina on this planet, but apparently I was wrong."

"I always could pick 'em." Vic took another sip from Aari's glass. "Take the shipment to Mos Eisley on Tatooine. I'll meet you in the cantina there. You know the drill."

"Is the cantina anything like this one?"

Vic set the glass down. "You don't want to know." He adjusted his jacket and shifted toward the edge of the booth. "I'll see you in a few days." Leaning in toward the smuggler, he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

Aari glared daggers at the young man as he stood up, her fury hardly contained. "Don't ever do that again," she threatened.

Vic flashed his perfect smile, a glint of mischief in his gray eyes. "You know I will." Without another word he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Aari alone in the dark corner booth.

_Impossible man. _

Aari once again checked her holster, and then as quietly as she had come, she left the booth and made her way out of the fifth-rate wormhole.

.

* * *

.

She hated the Emperor as she hated no other being. It was a feeling she'd grown used to over the years, from the time she was a small child. Back then it had been a sick sensation in her stomach whenever he was near, one of the only ways her still-growing Force abilities could manifest his presence. Sometimes it was like sharp nails scratching at her inner ear, other times it was like swallowing icy blades. No matter what it was, as she'd grown older, so had the tortured fear grown to hatred.

"_Only your hatred can destroy your most powerful enemy."_ Yes, she remembered that lesson. She had wanted to tell her father that there had to be another way, that hatred could only cause further destruction. But somehow, standing before the Emperor, whom she saw as her most powerful of enemies, she began to think that her father had been right.

"Your Excellency, the Imperial Princess is here at your request."

She heard the scarlet-robed guard announce her, and she stepped forward boldly. The Emperor sat on his dark throne, the lights dim. How she wished for the power to strike him dead at that moment. His very presence was like a cold serpent, attempting to wrap itself around her. She could tell how much he wanted to crush her. She laughed inwardly. She too, had some power. While she could feel the slimy touch of his presence, she would not let it infest her. Her father had taught her how to deflect the Emperor's influence.

"Your Highness wished to speak with me?" The princess bowed before the ruler of the Empire. She bowed outwardly, but her heart was defiant.

The Emperor shifted ever so slightly on his throne. "You have returned from your first diplomatic mission. How did it go?"

How did it go? _You're trying to corner those poor people, and you're using my father to do it. _"It was only mildly successful, Highness."

"Oh? Couldn't your father make Senator Organa talk?" His voice dripped with dark pleasure. He knew how much the princess adored her father.

"If the senator would not reveal any information, it is no fault of my father's. Bail Organa is a very strong-willed man." She felt the anger boil inside of her. How dare he accuse her father of failure. "They have been warned, Highness. They know who is in command."

The Emperor looked slightly irritated at her boldness. "I suppose that is the best he could manage. You may leave."

The princess rose from her knees and looked up into the Emperor's cruel yellow eyes. In them she could see her hatred reflected tenfold. She shuddered inwardly, then caught herself. _I will not fear him. _Turning on her heel, she marched out of the throne room. She smirked as she passed the Royal Guard stationed at the door, hoping to give them something to think about. The Emperor's cold presence grew less tangible as she put distance between herself and the throne room.

_I am Princess Leia Ember Naberrie, daughter of Lord Darth Vader. And I will never bend to your will._

_.  
_

* * *

.

Cal Nightrunner stood silhouetted against the blazing twin suns of his homeworld, caring about little more than the job he had been hired to do on the moisture farm in the distance. He had only started as a hired hand a few months ago, after gruff Owen Lars appeared in the middle of Anchorhead looking for help. The sun-worn farmer seemed reluctant to ask for assistance, but his wife must have convinced him. Eram Nightrunner had insisted that his son take the job.

Trust his grounded father to land him with an equally grounded occupation. Moisture farming was the most predictable type of living Cal could imagine. Keep the vaporators running, wait for them to pull every drop of moisture out of the air, and store it to be sold. Cal's job was to fix any of the equipment and machines that broke down and to make sure that any damage done by the Tusken Raiders could be repaired. That was really all Lars ever asked of him. Fix this, clean that, and don't touch the swoop bike, it's pretty old. Lars always gave him a funny look whenever Cal would wander close to that swoop.

The week before Cal had asked his mother why an old farmer like Owen Lars would have a swoop.

"Oh, you know. He wasn't always an old farmer." Tani Nightrunner always got a wistful look in her eyes when she spoke of the "old days" with her only son. Cal had shaken his head in exasperation. That still did not explain why the man kept a swoop that he clearly didn't ride anymore.

Now as he approached the Lars homestead, Cal's thoughts wandered back to the task that lay ahead. As he came closer to the small hovel, he saw a lone figure climbing the stairs from the doorway. He made out the slight frame of Beru Lars and allowed himself a smile. Cal liked the gentle older woman. She always invited him to stay for supper, even when she knew he would have to politely decline. There was a soft determination about her that was both sweetly mothering and boldly encouraging. It was too bad she'd never had any children of her own.

"Good morning, ma'am." Cal hopped over a little dune and jogged to meet the woman.

Beru Lars squinted in the harsh glare of the suns, then smiled. "Hello, Cal. How good of you to come by." She acted as though Cal came out of sheer good will. It was her way.

"Is he out already?"

"Yes, but he shouldn't be. Caught a cold, he did. From staying out too late fiddling with those vaporators." Beru sighed. "I told him not to, but he's too prideful." She had that same foggy look in her eyes that Cal's mother got when she would delve into her memories.

"Ma'am?"

Beru looked up at the tall young man as if seeing him for the first time. "Why don't you come in for a drink, Cal?" She motioned for him to come with her into the hovel.

The young farm hand nodded and followed the woman down the steps. He'd been in here many times already, but each time it seemed like there was something new to see. Which was strange considering the Lars' rarely bought anything new – unless it was a droid or farm equipment. Still, Cal noticed different trinkets each time he stepped into the Lars home. Once he had seen a tiny model podracer, which looked curiously similar to the famous human-piloted pod that had won the Boonta Eve race over thirty years before. When he'd asked about it, Beru had quietly told him that the miniature had belonged to Owen's stepmother.

Cal couldn't even imagine Owen Lars being young enough to have a mother. Of course, he couldn't imagine any of the adults on Tatooine ever being young.

"Owen bought a droid this morning from the Jawas. He's putting it to work. He said he won't need you today, since the harvest is winding down now." Beru poured some purple liquid into a plastic cup and handed it to Cal. "Sorry we couldn't get word to you before you came all the way out here."

Cal took a sip of the drink. Refreshingly sweet. "It's no trouble, ma'am." He downed the rest of the liquid. "But if you'll excuse me, I should probably go home and finish up my chores early, if you'll not be needing me."

Beru nodded. "That'd be fine, Cal. Be careful on the way back. Owen has been having a bad feeling about the Tuskens lately." Her eyes clouded yet again, this time with worry.

"I will. Thank you for the drink." Cal made his way back up the steps and into the bright morning light. He wondered what Beru had meant by a bad feeling. Owen probably just didn't get enough sleep and mistook it for an ill omen. Shaking his head, the young man ventured out into the wild sands of the planet he reluctantly called home.

.

* * *

.

The towheaded prince stepped into the shadowy chamber, taking a deep breath. "Father?" He wasn't sure if he should interrupt like this, but sensing his father stir, he knew it was too late to leave.

One of the shadows moved. "Yes, my son?" He didn't sound irritated or angry. Just tired – a more common occurrence as of late.

Luke shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Should he tell him? Steadying his breathing, he took another step forward. "Father, I'm concerned."

The Sith Lord came closer to Luke, lowering his black hood. "What troubles you, my son?" His dark blue eyes seemed to soften, something only his children witnessed.

Luke tried to tell him, but found himself unable. _Not yet_, a voice whispered in the back of his head. _Not yet_. The prince stared up into his father's eyes. What could he say now? He'd interrupted his father's meditation, something that no one but Luke and his sister could do and live to tell about it. He swallowed as quietly as he could. "I'm worried about you, Father. You seem tired." It was true, even if it wasn't what Luke had come to discuss.

Darth Vader sighed almost inaudibly. "Luke, you shouldn't concern yourself with my health. Focus on your studies." He rested a strong hand on Luke's shoulder, looking down at his son. "I can take care of myself. You know that."

Luke wouldn't have called it the most warm of conversations, but then again, his father was a burdened man. Burdened with being second in command of the Galactic Empire. Burdened with the Rebel presence in the Senate. Burdened with training Leia to be the next Sith apprentice.

The boy sighed. It was probably more of a burden for Leia, if truth be told. Luke had no desire to be his father's apprentice, and apparently the Emperor had deemed him unfit for the position. Leia was more like their father, which put her squarely in line for the apprenticeship, whether she liked it or not.

The prince laughed inwardly. He knew that Leia would never bow to the Emperor, or to any other man for that matter. She was loyal to her family, not the Empire. The same was true for Luke. He knew how much the Emperor hated the Imperial Prince and Princess. One day though, they would have to face him. And when that day came…

_I will show him my true strength, which he brushed aside as weakness. And he will know that I am Prince Luke Shade Naberrie, son of the mightiest Sith Lord, Darth Vader. One day, he will know._

_.  
_


	3. Chapter Two: Intricate Deceptions

Chapter Two: Intricate Deceptions

* * *

Nights were always quiet on Alderaan, and Javan would not have had it any other way. Standing on a balcony of the Royal Palace, he let the cool wind sweep across his face, the scent of new flowers a gentle reminder that the planet was experiencing its annual rebirth. The young man relished in the silence. The palace was a very peaceful place, an attribute which appealed to Javan even in his childhood. Still there came times when even the attentions of Organa relatives were too much to bear. When that happened, Javan ran off to his special balcony. Here he could always be alone. Here he could always think clearly. In his youth he would come to the palace with his father and visit Bail and his wife. If he concentrated harder, Javan could almost remember coming here with his mother. But that was a long time ago, and now he was grown.

Javan's lips curved into a wry grin as he combed his fingers through his black hair. His father, Orin Madai, always laughed at him whenever he mentioned how adult he was. "You'll always be my little boy," he would chuckle merrily. Javan would shake his head in quiet amusement. He loved his father, but the man had never been one for politics. He saw Javan's ambitions as childish pastimes and nothing more. Someday he would show him. He'd make his father proud. He'd make Bail proud.

Another grin.

Bail Organa was a different person entirely. He openly welcomed Javan's interest in the Senate, and was always available to talk to the young man about his ideals and positions. Perhaps it was because the viceroy and prince of Alderaan had never had a child of his own. Javan was sometimes more like the child Bail should have had, rather than merely the son of a cousin. And sometimes Javan found himself wondering what it would be like to have Bail as a father. He would have lived in the beautiful palace, instead of a lavish city mansion. He would have been addressed as "Prince" or something to that effect, and he would have grown up in Bail's impressive shadow.

When truths like these occurred to Javan, he realized how fortunate he was to have been born a Madai with ties to the House of Organa. He was free to follow Bail's path without feeling pressure to do so. It was an act of love – love for politics, love for the people, and love for his cousin – rather than an act of inherited duty. It didn't matter that he was not Bail's natural son. He was the senator's protégé, his more-than-son. That was all that really mattered.

Javan sighed and looked up at the distant stars. Somewhere out there was a power-hungry man who fed off of the ignorance of billions upon billions of living, breathing beings. He twisted their fates around his finger as if they were delicate threads. He could twist more and more, and when one snapped, he would continue on without a care. And now he was trying to do that to Bail and to Alderaan. Javan didn't know if there really where any Rebels on his beloved planet, but if there were, it was Palpatine's own fault. The whole Rebellion was started because the greedy old man didn't know when enough was enough.

Sometimes the young diplomat wished he could do more. Yes, he was a skilled politician, but certainly not one of the brilliant ones. He was in the beginnings of his career, and already he was twenty-three years old. Practically middle age when he considered such bright stars as Mon Mothma, Padmé Amidala, and Bail Organa himself. They had all started in politics before age twenty. Senator Amidala had been fourteen when she was elected Queen of Naboo! Javan shook his head. What could he possibly do for his people? Amidala had defeated the invaders of her planet, Bail had been a leader during the Clone Wars…what mark could Javan Madai leave?

Again, the young man sighed. With the look of a man who had gone in search of answers and found none, he turned away from the dark sky and ventured indoors, leaving his balcony in silence.

.

* * *

.

Aidan Rennal was not the brightest man to walk the scum-infested lower level of Imperial Center, but he knew when he was being followed. That might have had more to do with instinct than intelligence – he had felt that someone was following him before he ever saw it with his eyes. Aidan chuckled softly. This snoop didn't know what he was getting himself into. If he thought it was going to be a quick fight, he had another thing coming to him. Aidan might not have had the sharpest mind, but Force knew he was quite capable in other areas.

Oh yes, how the Force did know.

The spy grew braver as Aidan traveled further into the criminal underbelly of what had once been Coruscant. He pulled his cloak tighter around his body as he passed several pairs of hands reaching out from the garbage piles. It was disgusting really. Aidan charged through the crowd, ignoring their futile pleas. He had one purpose for being down here, and one purpose alone. A mere spy would not stop him.

Taking a right turn he approached a dead end. Looking about, he saw that the spy was gone. No. Not gone. Just hiding. He closed his eyes and reached out mentally. There! A crashed speeder provided cover for the spy. You don't know who you're dealing with. Aidan smirked in the dim light and headed for small door in the building to his left. Placing his hands on the steel surface he saw the lock on the other side clicking softly, saw it settling in the correct notches, saw the door open with a groan. Opening his eyes, he saw the shadowy hall revealed, and smiling slightly, he stepped through the door.

Without bothering to close the door behind him, Aidan strode silently down the poorly lit corridor. He knew his predator would follow him into the murky darkness. Or rather, his prey. When he reached a junction where the lights failed completely, Aidan stepped off to the left and flattened himself against the wall. He didn't need the light.

The man crept quietly past Aidan, apparently hesitant to continue without the lights. Aidan heard him stop and begin to backtrack. Suddenly and without warning, the man pulled out a blaster and pointed it at Aidan. "Don't move," he hissed, leveling the weapon at Aidan's chest.

The stunned young man regained his calm. "You don't have a chance."

"Shut up and keep still. I've got the blaster."

In half a heartbeat the blaster was ripped from the would-be-assassin's hands and flew into Aidan's palm. "Wrong," he whispered ruthlessly. Without hesitating, he shot the man in the legs.

Screaming out in agony, the assassin fell to the floor. Aidan dragged him further down the corridor, where he could better see the man who had tried to kill him. He was about the same build as Aidan, with a blue bandana wrapped around his curly blonde hair. He looked to be about twenty-five, a little younger than Aidan. Pitiful.

"Who sent you," Aidan growled, getting the most obvious and important question out of the way.

The assassin gritted his teeth. "Go to hell."

Not quite the answer he was looking for. He pulled out a vibroblade that had been concealed beneath his cloak. "I'll only ask once more." The blade hummed as it came closer to the wounded man's throat. "I must tell you, I really don't appreciate it when people try to steal my jobs."

The man stared up at Aidan hatefully, sucking in a deep breath. "Go…to…hell."

A devilish grin played across Aidan's fiery features. "I plan on it." Tucking his blade under his cloak, he again pulled out the blaster and promptly shot the man between the eyes. Too bad he couldn't get any information out of the little parasite. It would have been useful to know who was trying to get in on his business. An assassin was never safe.

No. That was not true. An assassin was safe when the Force was his ally. Aidan glanced down at the lifeless body. An assassin was never given a moment of peace, that was all. Not that Aidan minded much. After all, he was the best.

.

* * *

.

The throne room was dark, as usual. That was the way Emperor Palpatine liked it. So much easier to immerse himself completely in the dark side when the room was equally dark. He relished in the grim shadow that he cast, and he delighted in the power he felt when he sat upon his throne. It was all quite fitting, he mused to himself.

On his throne, the Emperor laughed inwardly. He was watching three small holovids, all of a trashy alley in the lower levels. In one of the holovids, a red-haired man in black clothes opened a locked door without apparent effort. Moments later, a brash young blonde man clutching a blaster followed him inside. The second holovid showed the red-haired man leaving quietly, a wicked smirk flashing across his face. The third showed two big men hauling out the body of the blonde and tossing it onto a pile of trash nearby.

Turning back to the second holovid, the Emperor rewound and stopped at the point where the redhead was in clear view. "So," he murmured softly, "this is the man who killed the Hutt crime lord."

"Yes, Your Excellency. Surna the Hutt." The man in front of the throne looked up from the floor, remaining in a kneeling position.

"Interesting. He also eliminated a competitor." The Emperor stared at the holovid with some fascination. "Find him. Have him brought to me."

"Excellency, he seems to possess strange powers…" the man trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"Mara," the Emperor barked. Out of the shadows behind the throne appeared a young, fiery-haired girl. Her bright green eyes flashed in the dim light of the holovids.

"Yes, my master?" Her voice was confident and unafraid.

"You are to assist Captain Cryger in bringing in this assassin. This will be a test of your skills so far. Do not fail me."

Bowing her head, the girl responded without hesitation. "It will be done as you command, my master."

"Leave me, and return when it is completed."

The girl and the captain bowed, the girl perhaps not so much as the man, and then they departed from the Emperor's chilling presence.

.

* * *

.

The training room in Darth Vader's personal quarters was alight with brilliant color and silent save for the hum and clash of weapons. If anyone were to see Leia Naberrie at that moment, they would have had trouble believing she was a princess.

They would have thought her a fierce warrior instead.

She cartwheeled with one hand, grasping her lightsaber in the other as she dodged her father's swift kick. He was agile for a man of forty-two, and still incredibly powerful. Age, it seemed, had only increased his strength. In his youth he had been a formidable opponent – Leia had heard stories of the Jedi Purge, and she shuddered at the thought of meeting her father in any such duel. But now he was no longer formidable. He was unstoppable. Which was why he was training her to be able to defeat him.

Leia crouched low to the ground, then sprang into the air, flipping over his head while blocking his attack. Red blade met blue as she landed behind him. He shoved her hard with the Force, knocking her backwards onto the ground. Thrusting her lightsaber up to meet his, she rolled away and jumped to her feet. They circled one another, father and daughter, Vader holding his lightsaber over his head, Leia holding hers out in front of her, letting it sway back and forth. It cast its blue light across her damp face as she exhaled.

"Good." Her father brought his lightsaber down and deactivated it. Leia watched warily, choosing to keep her weapon ready. Dry amusement flashed across her father's face. "Leia?"

The princess's stony countenance melted into a grin. "It is unwise to lower your defenses," she mimicked.

Vader smirked, his eyes shining with a humored light. "You remembered. Very good."

Leia deactivated her lightsaber and bowed to her father. He returned her bow with a slight bend at the waist, a sign of superiority. Her father was always the honorable warrior. He would rather face an enemy in physical combat than destroy them through lies and deceit. But certain things had to be done. That's what he always told her anyway.

Stray thoughts like those always led her toward numerous questions. Questions that were normally left unanswered, if her father had anything to say about it. Thinking of honor, she wondered if her father had behaved honorably during the Purges. She didn't know much about them, having been only a newborn when they began. Most of the information on them was wiped off of the records, just like the Jedi themselves. What little else remained were the memories of the older generation. Her father's generation.

"Father?" Leia hooked her saber on her belt and wiped sweat off of her forehead. Her brown eyes were wide with curiosity. "Why do you train me?"

The man looked suddenly older and inexplicably darker. "You know why I am training you. Don't ask questions needlessly, daughter."

Any other person would have cowered in fear and begged forgiveness for their blatant stupidity. Not Leia. She was stubborn in a way that even she did not fully understand. It was an attribute that her father did not possess in so great an amount, so she could only assume it came from her long-dead mother.

"Father, I know that you want me to become the next Sith apprentice." It was true. Her father had told her that this was the entire purpose of the unique middle names that were given to her and Luke when they were born. Ember and Shade. It had been too early to determine which twin was most fit to be a Sith, so they'd both been given names that would be suitable. Leia sometimes wondered what had compelled her father to choose those particular names.

"Then what is it, daughter?" Vader asked impatiently. If there was one characteristic that truly described her father for the whole of his life, it would most likely be impatient. Luke had inherited that. Leia was stuck with being overly outspoken. Which was why she had trouble containing these questions when she was around her father.

"Father, ever since I can remember I've been told of my destiny. How someday I will be Darth Ember, how I'll be not only the greatest apprentice ever to live, but I'll be the daughter of the Sith Master." Leia held out her fingers to count each memorized line. "Anger and hate are my allies. My skills with a lightsaber will someday be as renown as yours, and you will proudly say that I am of your blood." Leia paused for a moment to let her words sink in, then continued. "But Father, there's one thing that troubles me."

"What is it, my child?"

Leia took a steadying breath. "My name."

Vader stared at her silently, not a thought or emotion apparent on his face, nor in his presence. Leia met with only a hazy fog when she tried to reach his mind. It had always been so, as though something were hanging over her father, inhibiting his ability to reach out to others. "Your name?" he murmured, a hint of something odd in his voice. She couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was, but she knew for certain that she had somehow affected him.

"Yes." The look on Leia's face was almost beseeching. "I don't want to change my name when I'm a Sith. How can I be anyone but Leia? How can I give up my brother? If I change my name, I may still be your daughter, but what is there to show that I'm Luke's sister?" She watched as Vader seemed to turn the thought over in his sharp mind. "I don't want to be Lady Ember. I want to be Leia."

"You can still be Leia. Nothing can change that."

Leia eyed him quizzically. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Daughter, what nonsense do you speak?"

The princess stepped closer to her father. "I have never asked you this before, Father, but I want to know. What was your name?"

He staggered as if struck. "It is of no consequence." He turned away, grabbing his black cloak.

"I want to know—"

"You will _not_ know!" Vader roared, whirling on the young woman. She backed away in true fear. Never before had her father spoken to her so. She bit back tears.

"You gave me my mother's name, but you don't expect me to keep it!" She felt one drop slide down her cheek. She cursed herself inwardly for crying in front of him. "If your name doesn't matter, why should mine?" Now with more tears dripping freely down her face, she fled from the training room, heading for the sanctuary of her own quarters.

The last glimpse that she caught of her father was of him standing in silent, confused anger as his dark cloak fell to the floor.

.


	4. Chapter Three: Sands of Time

Chapter Three: Sands of Time

* * *

"Cal, you've hardly touched your food."

The young farm hand shoveled his food around on his plate as he rested his chin on one palm. His mother set a pitcher of juice down on the table as she gazed at her son.

"Cal?"

He looked up absently, as though he'd just woken up from a long dream. "Beru said that Owen got a bad feeling about the Tuskens." He looked across the table at his parents as they stopped eating.

"Owen Lars?" Eram Nightrunner set his fork down and raised one eyebrow. He was a weathered older man with a strong build and an even stronger love for the land. He would never think of leaving Tatooine, not in a million years.

Cal nodded. "Yeah, Owen Lars. How many Owens do you know?"

"Don't get saucy with me, Cal."

The boy lowered his eyes. "Sorry, Dad." He went back to shoveling his food back and forth.

Eram grunted as he picked up his fork again. "That farmer is just a crazy old man."

"You're the one who wanted me to work for him."

"Well you're old enough to earn your keep. He still has a mind for farming and for money and such, but as for being with normal folks…he's just crazy." His father spoke like a man who believed what he was saying simply because there was nothing else to believe.

Cal shook his head, brushing his light brown hair out of his eyes. "But Beru seemed really worried." He didn't really believe there was anything wrong, but for some reason he felt he needed to at least stick up for Beru.

Eram frowned. "Bad feeling…he's been getting a 'bad feeling' ever since his stepmother died." Cal looked up quickly as a sharp nudge from his mother silenced Eram before the man could continue. Tani kept her gaze on the plate before her.

Cal stared at his now quiet father, wondering what he'd meant. All he knew was that Owen's stepmother had died many years before, followed by his father sometime later. The circumstances surrounding her death were a mystery, as were many things about the Lars family. Sometimes in his youth when he went to the market with his mother, he overheard the local gossips talking about anyone and anything that passed by. One time when Beru had been in town, Cal heard the women speaking in hushed tones about "how tragic it was" and how "the poor thing has to live out there all alone now, with only her gruff husband for company." Those words were spoken long ago, when Beru had still held onto the traces of youth. Cal remembered her that way, but it was a dim memory, replaced now by the image of a hardened older woman with no children and no future beside the one on Tatooine.

Cal wondered why the older generation was hesitant to discuss whatever had happened. Somehow he got the feeling that it was important – therefore the adults, being solid Tatooinians, had to bury the knowledge as quickly as possible. It was as though anything out of the ordinary had to be hidden, lest the youngsters grow bold and try outrageous things, like leaving the barren planet.

"Mom," Cal said cautiously. He wasn't sure if she would answer his question, but it was worth a shot.

"Yes, Cal?"

He swallowed his hesitancy. "How did Owen's stepmother die?"

Tani paled as she glanced over at her husband, as if blaming him for their son's curiosity. "Now that's not really your business, Cal."

"But you know."

His mother looked a little older than usual. Cal could see the gray hairs starting to creep into her dark hair. "Yes," she sighed. "I know. For the most part, I know." Her eyes rose to meet her son's relentless gaze.

"Why is it such a big secret?"

Tani reached across the table and placed a small hand over Cal's much larger one. "Cal, you have to understand…it was something we thought we were used to, or at least prepared for…but somehow at the same time, it was different."

Cal couldn't realty understand what his mother was getting at, so he tried to prompt her. "It has to do with the Tuskens, doesn't it? Did they kill her?"

"Well, not exactly. I mean yes, but not right away." Tani withdrew her hand and set both hands in her lap. "I'm sure you've heard stories about the Tuskens and how they haven't really been a problem over the last two decades."

"A little. Not many people are willing to explain, Mom. Mostly I know that Tuskens are violent, and they used to attack settlers who strayed too far from their homesteads. Then they just stopped. Like they got scared of us or something."

Tani glanced at her husband again. She seemed to be considering whether or not to tell the story. "Owen's stepmother was taken by Tusken Raiders twenty-two years ago. Thirty men went out after her. Only four came back. Owen and his father were two of the survivors."

Cal felt his jaw drop in surprise. He suddenly had the mental image of a young Owen Lars – he could actually see the farmer as a young man now – riding his precious swoop out in search of the woman he'd come to call his mother. Across the desert they sped, all thirty of them, with Owen and his father gravely determined. Cal shuddered at the thought of what had happened when they found the sand people. Twenty-six men dead. No wonder there were more older women in Anchorhead than there were older men. Suddenly it seemed acceptable for Owen to be so gruff and alienated. Anyone who had witnessed that many murders in the heat of battle had a reason to be withdrawn.

"Did they find her?" Cal was fascinated now. Never before had he heard such a tale, knowing that it was true.

His mother sighed. "No. They never got that far. Cliegg Lars lost his leg, and Owen had enough trouble getting him home without being attacked again. They couldn't get more men to go after her again…the entire community had been devastated by both the attacks and the rescue attempt." Tani wiped her eyes, which had started to water up.

"Well then how do you know she died? Maybe the Tuskens didn't kill her. Maybe they—"

His father's harsh laugh interrupted him. "Kids these days don't know anything about the sandpeople." Eram chuckled darkly as he stared at his son.

Tani shook her head. "We know she died because her body was brought back. And buried."

"I've never seen any graves."

"Owen took all three of the tombstones down for some odd reason, a few years after Shmi died. No one knows why."

"Oh." Cal thought that maybe he should never have asked. He wanted to know, but at the same time, he felt guilty for making his parents remember. "How do you know all this, Mom?"

Eram draped one arm across his wife's shoulders, answering for her. "Because her father was one of the other survivors. And her brother was one of the twenty-six that were killed."

A few stray tears dripped down her still pretty face. "It's true."

Cal wanted to curl up and die. He thought his uncle had died in a speeder accident. "Mom…I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine, Cal. You were just curious. It was a long time ago anyway."

The young man sighed wearily. "May I be excused? I have some chores to finish." It wasn't true, but he couldn't bare to see his mother's tears.

His father looked up at him. "Sure. Just be in before dark."

A shiver ran down Cal's spine as he imagined being caught outside when dusk fell. Suddenly the idea of Tuskens attacking was not so impossible. Then he was reminded of the fact that sandpeople had not attacked settlers for twenty-two years. He had forgotten to ask his parents why, or perhaps they had forgotten to tell him. Either way, he now wondered what could possibly have scared the Tuskens away, and why they had not yet returned.

As he walked outside and stared at the setting suns, Cal realized that his mother had never told him why that particular attack was so different. He assumed at first that it was because of the personal loss, but after a moment of thought, he began to doubt it. Something in his mother's face when she'd started to tell him the story…the way her eyes grew both misty and frightened at the same time…something else had happened between the time of Shmi Lars's abduction and her death that gave his mother that look – that fear.

He had forgotten to ask how they found the dead body.

.

* * *

.

The stench of melted metal filled the training room as another assassin droid dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.

_All too easy._

Vader stood over the wrecked mass and deactivated his crimson saber. It was on the verge of pathetic, how simple it had become. The droids could only be so fast, so intelligent. Vader frowned, his dark blonde eyebrows furrowed. He was in every way superior to these machines.

Well…almost every way.

The Dark Lord left the room and headed for his meditation chamber. Kneeling in the middle of the dark room, he closed his eyes and let his mind open to the world around him. Emotions flooded his senses. Droids did not have emotions, at least not like humans had. A droid did not experience passion or rage or betrayal like a human could. In that way they might be considered superior.

Close to his quarters he could feel Luke doing some light exercises. His thoughts were scattered and few. That was one of the things Vader admired about his son – his ability to meditate without interruption. Vader had often had trouble in his youth when told to meditate. Leia had the same problem. She would much rather run through a vigorous sparring session or practice with her lightsaber. His daughter was quite the natural warrior.

His daughter.

Leia.

She was the cause of this lack of focus he was experiencing, whether he wanted to admit it or not. The Sith Lord had few weaknesses, but when he was alone in the dead of night he had to face the fact that his children made him weak…at least as far as the dark side was concerned. The Emperor hated the twins because of both their effect on their father and their unmatched Force potential – Vader had known this ever since he brought the infant twins to Imperial Center. He had wanted to hide them from his master, but at the same time he needed them to be with him…to be _his_. His children.

_Mine and_ _Padmé's._

No. He was not going to travel that path again. He'd done it too many times in the last nineteen years. The choice had been made – he was a Sith Lord, and no one could change that. His wife was dead. A tragedy, yes, but now he had his children. He'd given them her name. It was the least he could do, he told himself. Or maybe he was just trying to escape a ghost.

Vader smirked in the pitch dark as another memory came to him. His decision to give the twins their mother's last name. The Emperor had not liked that either. But "Vader" just didn't seem right for the two small children. And he could hardly give them his birth name.

_"If your name doesn't matter, why should mine?"_

Leia had certainly given him something to think about, if not in the way she'd hoped. His old life was gone. Nothing could change that. But as he replayed her words over and over, he thought about the truth in them.

He really _did_ expect her to give up her name. He expected her to become nothing but Darth Ember, a Sith. Not Padmé's child, not his daughter Leia.

Just a Sith.

For a brief moment he wondered why she'd been chosen. Why had he allowed himself to train her in the use of the dark side? She was nowhere near as corrupted as Palpatine or even himself. In fact it amazed Vader that she and Luke had remained as good as they were, living in such close proximity to the Emperor. But then there were moments in her training when the hatred would fill her, when Vader was almost unable to keep up with her. In her dark eyes he could see raw anger, a reflection of his own. Just when she would come dangerously close to defeating him, just before his own anger would surge to overpower hers, Leia would back down and apologize for her insubordination.

Vader tried to punish her for her naïveté. She should never apologize for her talent. She should never apologize for touching the dark side. He wanted to find the strength to punish her physically or verbally. But he could never do it. She was still the little girl who had run to him when she had a nightmare. She was the little girl who had stood defiantly before the Emperor and yelled at him for being "a mean, ugly old man." She was his child. And for a brief moment he did not want her to become the next Sith.

The Dark Lord sighed wearily. Anger, aggression, hate…these were his allies. They made him strong. They made him invincible. They allowed him to touch the Force in a way unrivaled by any other user. His children made him weak.

_I don't care._

He wished he could change his outer appearance, so that each morning when he saw himself reflected in the steel doors of his quarters, he would not be reminded of what he once was. He would not be able to see Luke's blue eyes in his own steadily aging face or the tilt to his head that hinted of recklessness. He would not see the sharp, commanding presence of Leia reflected in the metal, nor the eyes twinkling with wit and bright intelligence. He would not be able to see his children in his own reflection, and it would not be so easy to love them.

_I still don't care. They are my children._

The future was so uncertain. He wanted to protect his children from the very man who had shown him the true nature of the Force. It was strange, to constantly fear for their safety. To bow to a man and carry out his every order, when in the back of his mind he knew that his children's lives were in danger because of that same man. It was twisted, and yet it made sense to Vader. No, it made no sense. But he carried on anyway.

Someday Leia would be ready, and together they would overthrow the Emperor. Then he and the twins would be safe, and they would have all the power the galaxy could offer.

Yes. That was a dream worth waiting for.

Somewhere in the palace, Vader could feel Luke drifting off to sleep.

_Rest, my son._

He let the Force carry his message, trying to make it gentler than normal. He couldn't explain why it needed to be soft instead of commanding. It just had to be.

Luke was already halfway to sleep, but Vader felt a tug on his mind. More of an emotion than a word or thought. It was bright and warm, like afternoon on Naboo. He could feel it seep into the corner of his mind that still held tender memories of long ago days. It was love.

And for just an instant, Vader let the happiness enter his dark soul. Then Luke was asleep and it was gone. In its place, he felt a cold bleakness. It was Leia.

If he'd been any man other than Darth Vader, he might have gone to her and tried to offer comfort. He knew a man who would have done that, but that man was long dead.

The darkness crept into his being and stayed with him throughout the night, like a raven perched ominously over its prey. There was no escape – he'd given up trying long ago.

.

* * *

.

The space lanes over Rodia were quiet. Aari watched untrustingly as she approached the lone freighter ahead. As she gently guided her ship, _Silent Blade_, over to the freighter she began to grow nervous. There were hardly any other ships in sight – just a few smaller craft darting toward the planet, but that was all. Where were all the larger cargo vessels that should have been lumbering to and from Rodia? And for the matter, where were the Imp patrols?

Her spine tingled with anxiety. She hadn't seen any Imperial ships at all. If they showed up, she knew that the _Blade_ could outrun them. It was a Firespray-31, a fighter known for its speed and stealth. It could only carry about fifty metric tons of cargo, which was one of the things Aari liked about it. She didn't want to go big when smuggling, and she wanted to be able to outrun the Imps if she had to. But still, just the absence of a patrol was unsettling.

The young smuggler contacted the freighter ahead. "This is the _Silent Blade_ awaiting permission to bring the cargo aboard." She heard the faint static as she broke off and waited for an answer.

"_Silent Blade_…please wait just a moment while we ready the cargo." The captain of the freighter sounded like an old man with a cold. Aari laughed, imagining the pilot sniffling while he ordered his crew about.

"Sure," Aari replied, leaning back in her seat. She glanced at the sensors. No activity so far, except for a small blip coming from the far side of the planet. Probably a transport or something. Nothing to worry about, she hoped.

Aari tried whistling while she waited for the slow freighter. Some people were so inconsiderate of other people's schedules. She didn't have all day.

Actually, she probably did.

Five more minutes went by and still no word from the freighter. She tried to tell herself that they were just having some technical problem, something that was keeping them from being able to dock with her. She should have asked about finding a space station somewhere close where they could load the cargo, but it was too late for that. The longer she waited, the more anxious Aari became.

_This isn't right…_

Glancing down at her sensors, she saw the small blip grow larger as it came around the planet. _What the…?_

Looking off to her right, Aari saw a dark shape coming into view near Rodia. She swallowed with difficulty. That wasn't a transport or even a passenger liner. It was an Imperial Star Destroyer. And it was coming right at her.

"Freighter…whatever you call yourself…there are Imps in this system!" Aari shouted into the com. No answer. She started to back away from the freighter when she saw more destroyers leaving hyperspace. Her hands locked on the controls, all she felt was fury. It had been a setup all along. She should have known it was too easy to be anything but a trap.

Swinging the _Blade _around, Aari readied herself for combat and darted away from the planet. She could lose these goons. In this ship, she could lose them. But the problem was that she was boxed in, with the only opening behind her, toward the planet. _No way am I going back there._ Hoping that her skills and her speed would save her while she brought up the coordinates for Tatooine, Aari plunged ahead, straight at the arriving destroyers. _Come and get me._

The Imps fired repeatedly at her, but her vessel was too fast. She was gone before a laser blast could hit her. If she kept this up long enough, she could make the jump to hyperspace with ease.

Then the TIEs showed up.

_Blast!_ Aari dodged the incoming fighters, knowing that they would certainly destroy her if she stayed here long. All she needed was another minute. The fighters sprayed her with fire, but her shields held. It was a good thing she'd modified them. She faked right, then rolled left, scoring one, two, three kills. A few more seconds now…

There! She blasted her way through the TIEs and started on a direct path for open space. She'd caught them off guard – in a moment they would catch up with her again. It was now or never. Yanking the lever back, she felt the _Blade_ jump all the way to lightspeed. The stars stretched and became thick white lines as they streaked by at incredible speed.

Aari leaned back in her seat, wiping sweat off her brow. Concentration could really take a lot out of a person. She closed her eyes, mulling over how she had been double-crossed and how she was going to kill Vic when she got to Tatooine.

.

* * *

.

"Javan, may I have a word with you?"

The young diplomat turned away from the open balcony door and smiled at his cousin. "Of course, Bail." He strode over to the plush chair opposite the senator and sat down, feeling the warmth of the fire on his face. It was a pleasant feeling, like most experiences on Alderaan. He sank into the chair.

Bail ran his fingers through his black hair – hair that matched Javan's own, clearly showing that the two men were related. "Javan, I know you are worried about the Empire's increased…interest in our affairs." He placed careful emphasis on the word "interest" as his face grew solemn. "No doubt you've wondered if there are Rebels operating on Alderaan. You know that our people are supportive of the Rebellion in many ways, but we have never openly allied with the Rebellion."

Javan nodded. This was all true. He _had_ wondered about the presence of Rebel spies and military on his peaceful planet. He had also wondered what he could do to help, though he didn't think he should tell that to his cousin.

The older man watched Javan silently for a minute, then continued on. "My dear cousin, I feel it is time for me to tell you the truth."

The young politician leaned forward in his seat. Truth? About what? "I'm not sure I understand, cousin."

Bail's expression grew grave. "Javan, what I am about to tell you must not leave this room. Do you understand that?"

Javan nodded again. He'd never seen Bail this way, not even in the Senate. "Yes, cousin."

Bail sighed. "My dear boy, it is true that there are Rebels operating on Alderaan. I should know, because I am one of them." He held up a hand as Javan opened his mouth in shock. "Please wait. I'm not through. I am the leader of the Rebel cell on Alderaan, but I am even more than that. I am one of the leaders of the entire Rebel Alliance."

Javan could feel his mouth hanging open in surprise. He wanted to smack himself for not seeing it sooner. Gentle, peace-loving Bail, who cried for the injustices done to thousands of others, who cried at night when he thought no one could see him. Strong, determined Bail, who faced off against the Emperor in the Senate again and again, never backing down. His warm, caring cousin, who still believed in freedom even though he was losing faith in the government. War hero, loyal Alderaanian, friend to the oppressed, brilliant senator – he could be nothing _but_ a Rebel.

"Cousin," Javan whispered, fearing that at any moment the Empire might storm the palace and take them all away. "Whatever you ask of me, I will do." The young man drew a shocked breath as he realized the words he had uttered.

Bail leaned closer to Javan, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Javan, do not act out of your devotion to me. Any decision you make has to be your own." His dark eyes grew increasingly troubled.

Javan stared straight into his beloved cousin's eyes, trying to show some kind of strength. "Bail, I want to help you. The Empire is not what it once was. I want to do what I can."

The senator shook his head sadly. "My boy, you do not have as many years behind you as I do. The Empire was never grand or glorious or promising. It was the scheming of a cruel, vicious man that brought the Republic to its knees. The corruption that destroyed the Republic was orchestrated by Palpatine, for the most part." Bail sighed wearily. "Not even the Jedi could see it. Not until it was too late."

Javan shut his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Bail had seen and done more than the young diplomat could possibly imagine. He felt like an infant, knowing nothing more than what he was told by those in power. But no more. He would think for himself, more than ever. The talent that he utilized in the political arena he would also use in educating himself about the truth of the Empire. He would do what he could to make things right in the galaxy, to bring back the former glory of the Old Republic.

Bail stood up, gazing into the fire as he rested a hand on the mantle. "So many people…" He trailed off, staring into the flames, as if seeing ghosts from a different time. Javan shuddered for some inexplicable reason. He wasn't sure if his cousin was thinking of the countless innocents who had died in battle or if he was remembering individuals – fellow senators, close friends…maybe even a Jedi or two. Javan just could not tell what the older man was thinking as he continued to gaze at the fire.

"Bail," Javan murmured, stepping over toward him. "I want to fight the Empire."

The viceroy and prince of Alderaan nodded slowly, his eyes staring as if into Javan's heart. "Very well." He extended a hand, which Javan grasped firmly. "Welcome to the Rebellion."

.


	5. Chapter Four: Destiny Set in Motion

Chapter Four: Destiny Set in Motion

* * *

When Luke awoke he could tell it was still night. Not that the city ever slept. Around him the prince could feel the faint throb of life forms roaming the neon-lit planet. It was certainly as alive as usual, but Luke could also sense a stillness that came only with night.

As the fog of sleep cleared from his mind he felt emptiness flow through his veins, and he knew instinctively that Leia was hurting. It was like having half of his heart plunged in cold water while the other half watched quietly. He couldn't truly describe the sensation, but that was the closest he could come.

He reached out to her, trying to soothe her. He met with resistance, though he had the feeling it had nothing to do with him. Sliding out of bed, he grabbed a tunic to cover his bare chest and hurried to the door that connected his and Leia's rooms. The door slid open with a gentle nudge, and Luke stepped into his twin's dark room.

"Leia?" He saw her huddled on the floor at the foot of her bed. "What are you doing there?"

She looked up, and Luke felt more pain wash over him. Her big brown eyes were moist with tears.

_Father._

Luke knelt down next to her and wrapped his arms around her slightly trembling body. "What happened?"

Leia wiped her eyes and shook her head.

"Will you show me?"

She looked up into Luke's eyes sadly. "Yes." Hugging herself close to her brother, Leia shut her eyes. Luke did the same, letting the silence wrap around them.

Luke felt a stirring in his mind. He could see the room as if it was daylight, but then it was replaced by another image. A black-walled room appeared. There was no furniture, no decoration. Just a large void. _Father's training room._ He sensed anger in Leia as she sent these images to him. Their special bond allowed them to share the most intimate and deep of thoughts and emotions. It had come to the point where they hardly needed to talk aloud. But both Luke and Leia loved to talk, so there was no chance of using telepathy for all communications.

Luke saw in his mind the image of his father standing over him. His face was contorted in rage, and he seemed to be shouting something at Leia. The scene evaporated as Luke opened his eyes and looked down at his sister. Leia lifted her gaze to meet her brother's.

"I want to hate him for that…" she murmured, her voice strained. Her hands curled into fists as she spoke, her expression darkening. "I want to hate him, Luke."

"But you can't." Luke felt his anger surge momentarily at his father's actions. He'd never truly yelled at them or grown hateful around them…why would he do so now? Still, the prince knew in his heart that he would always love his father.

"Can't I? Aren't I supposed to be this great Sith someday? How do I accomplish that if I can't hate my own father?"

Luke let out a steady breath. He only shook his head to show that he had no more answers than she did. There were so many questions that he wished to ask of their father, but somehow he knew they would only lead to trouble. "Leia…what happened?"

"I asked what his name was." She stated it firmly, yet Luke could feel her confusion. "He refused to tell me…it made him so angry…" Leia covered her eyes with one hand. "I don't want to change, Luke. But if Father had to, then what about me?"

Luke patted her soothingly on the head, trying to hide his own surprise. Somehow it had never really occurred to ask about his father's name. It had never seemed really important. His father was Darth Vader, and he always had been. But then again, he and Leia had been given names intended for Sith. That meant Father must have had a different name once. His curiosity had been sparked. He looked down at his sister. "You don't want to be the next Sith." It was not a question.

Leia clenched her hands together. "I don't know," she whispered. Her eyes seemed to be searching. "Sometimes I don't believe what I'm learning is right…" She found Luke's gaze, and her eyes grew suddenly darker. "But then when I think of the evil all around us – Palpatine and his cruelty – when I let go completely…I feel such power, like I could destroy that monster and his tyranny. Squash him like an insect." She smashed her fist into her other palm to emphasize her point. "I want that power all the time, Luke. But when I don't have it, I am afraid of it."

The fire that filled her spirit made the prince shy away from his sister slightly. What frightened him was that he knew what she was talking about. Perhaps he never grew as enraged as she did, but he had tapped into that power before. And when it was gone, he found himself yearning to have it back. Those were the only moments in his life when he wanted to be the next Sith Lord. Even if that meant…no, he would never do that to them. He loved his sister and his father.

_But you hate the fact that the Emperor considered you too mild-tempered and too passive to become your father's apprentice_, a cold voice seemed to whisper inside his head. It sounded like a strangled version of his own – battered and much more bitter.

_I don't want to be a Sith_. Luke tried to shut the thoughts out of his head. _If only there were something else I could be…something else I could do with my powers_.

Leia began to cry again, as silently as one could imagine. She'd never been one to weep dramatically. She viewed it as weakness, but she believed that if she must shed tears, she would do so with strength. Luke hugged her again. Sometimes it seemed so wrong to be living here. As though he and Leia were meant for something else. Some other life, perhaps. They were being trained and taught to use their anger, their hate, and even their fear – but they could never let go of the love they shared. Did that make them weaker than the Emperor? Than their father?

As Luke continued to hold onto his sister, he felt a haze creep over his senses. His eyes closed, and another world opened up around him. He felt Leia's touch slowly melting away, replaced by a blast of heat.

_It was so hot that Luke could hardly bare it. He heard what sounded like the clash of lightsabers, but he saw no one fighting. Walking along an alien surface, he covered his eyes to protect himself from the flames._

Flames?

_Crimson splashed across his vision, nearly scorching him. He stumbled backward, just as a dark figure came into view. He stood over another man with his lightsaber held high, a tortured expression etched across his face. The lightsaber came down…_

Luke came out of the haze so suddenly that he felt the breath knocked out of him. Leia was staring at him wide-eyed. "Who is Obi-Wan?" she asked hesitantly.

Luke felt his stomach roll over as he let his eyes refocus on the bedroom. "What?"

"You muttered something about an 'Obi-Wan,' and then you came out of it." She rested a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"I don't know what it was."

Leia let him collect his thoughts for a moment before speaking again. "I know you've been having these visions for a while now, Luke."

The prince scratched his head. "Yeah, but I have no idea what they mean. I tried to talk to Father, but…" There was no need to finish the sentence. Both twins knew how unapproachable their father could be. Luke tried to change the subject. "You've been having doubts lately."

"Yes, I have. I try not to, but I can't help it. I'm not angry enough. I can't always call on my hatred. And I don't always want to, Luke. Palpatine knows, and he's getting restless." She rested her head on her brother's shoulder. "I think he wants to replace me."

"You _know_ he wants to replace you. We both know…he's hated us since we were born."

"Because he knows we won't be his slaves." Leia clamped a hand over her mouth as soon as the words came out, but it was too late. She'd said what neither twin had ever dared utter.

Luke gazed at her, his blue eyes clouded with sorrow. "Like Father." He hung his head in shame for the disrespect he'd just shown for his father. But he knew it was true. All too true.

Leia paused silently, and Luke could tell she was preparing to say something important. He waited for her, knowing that she would tell him. He was the one person she trusted completely, and she was the only person he trusted without question. She would tell him.

"Luke," she whispered, as if afraid someone would hear her. "I can't stay here."

So he hadn't been expecting _that_. "What?" he replied in shock.

"I have to go somewhere. And you have to promise not to tell anyone." She sucked in a deep breath. "I'm going to give Palpatine a reason to replace me. And then I'll have an excuse to fight and destroy that monster. I hate him, Luke. And what he's doing to all those innocent people out there…" She made a sweeping gesture with one arm, as if her bedroom was the entire galaxy. "I'm going to Alderaan, to help the people there."

Luke stared at her incredulously. "What will you do there? Surely there's nothing you can do?"

"I can't stay here! I feel like I'm suffocating, just being near that man every waking moment. Senator Organa was so different from the Emperor…you have no idea. It was like a breath of fresh air. I just need to speak with him. I don't know what will happen after that, but I feel like I have to meet him."

"What makes you think he'll want to meet you?" Luke held her at arms length, trying to understand why she was saying these things.

"He has to. I can't explain it, Luke. I have to go."

"To Alderaan?"

"Yes. To Alderaan." Leia tried to smile. "Promise not to tell?"

"You know I'd never tell." Luke pulled her into another tight embrace. "When are you leaving?"

"Dawn. I'm going to find a pilot to take me. I'll leave at dawn." Her voice was so confident. Luke admired her for her courage.

"I won't ask how you intend to get passage." He stopped awkwardly, realizing these were his last moments with his sister before she left. "Leia, I want you to be careful. Things just don't feel right. These visions…"

"I know, Luke. I sense it too. But I have to go."

"What if I can't reach you?"

Leia leaned over and kissed her twin on the cheek. "You'll find a way." Her smile was bittersweet. "Now go back to bed. We can't have you moping about the palace with fatigue, can we?"

Luke forced a laugh, and then hugged her again. "I love you, Leia."

Leia sent him all the warmth she could produce in her still aching heart. She could no longer give voice to her feelings, so she let her mind connect with Luke's and let him feel them instead.

Luke felt her love wash over him as they disconnected. Without another word, he stood up and headed for the door to his own room. After he had returned to his own bed, he could feel Leia get up and begin gathering her things together. _May the Force be with you_.

_And with you also_.

.

* * *

_.  
_

_She was reaching for him, just as she always did. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breaths coming in short gasps as she gripped the edge of the table. He felt completely mired in his own horror as he willed himself to go to her. Slowly he staggered to her…so slowly it was agonizing. He saw his hands wrapping around her slight frame, his fingers lacing through her dark hair._

_She looked at him mournfully, as though he were the one dying, not she. "Why did you…" She trailed off as a spasm of pain coursed through her._

_He couldn't be sure what she meant, but he had the feeling that she didn't want him here. The realization made him both furious and broken-hearted. Not that his heart hadn't already taken a beating. This was just one more blow. One more to finish the job. He leaned close to her, trying to find words. "Twins, Padmé…and you were going to take them away from me," he whispered bitterly._

_Her eyes strayed from his gaze, staring off into space. Her face crumpled with remorse. "To protect them…"_

_Fury raced through his veins. They had lied to her – they must have told her that he was not to be trusted._ They are my children, damnit!_ "Padmé…you can't believe them…I won't harm our children."_

_Padmé managed to curve her lips into something resembling a smile. She raised a shaking hand to touch his face. "I know." She moaned as another shock of pain twisted her features. "Anakin…my Ani…"_

_He held her hand against his cheek, unable to let her pass easily. Unable to escape this dream as it replayed over and over in his sleep. He watched her fade away, a fog shrouding the medical facility in darkness. He could hear his infant children cry out as he reached for them. Why did this memory haunt him endlessly?_

Leave me alone!

_He knew he was dreaming because the medical facility melted away and was replaced by the Emperor's throne room. He remembered this part of the dream, although he hadn't dreamt it in many long years. He was now standing at the base of the steps that led to his master's throne. Two cloaked figures knelt at his master's feet. They rose slowly, casting aside their cloaks, revealing lightsabers that glowed fiercely in the darkness._

_As he looked around the throne room for some kind of explanation, he saw the shadows begin to leap about, burning like faded flames. A dark fire, he realized. The shadow flames crawled away from the walls and went to their masters – the two figures standing before the Emperor. One of the figures – a small woman brandishing a blue blade – held out her other hand, palm upward. The dark fire split apart, and crimson flames came to life in the woman's hand. The other figure – a man holding a green blade – held out his hand in the same fashion, and the shadows swirled about in his grasp._

_The woman with her burning embers and the man with his deadly shade stepped forward toward the Emperor, their weapons highlighting the terror on the old man's face. Vader watched in satisfaction, remembering when he'd first seen this vision. He knew what came next._

_The twins brought their blades up high, and then with a deafening roar, the chamber rocked from a violent explosion…_

_.  
_

* * *

.

Vader practically flew out of his bed, feeling the sweat-drenched sheets wrapped tightly around his legs. He placed his hands, one human, the other mechanical, gingerly over his forehead, trying to quell the fierce headache that normally came with that particular dream. Wincing as he opened his eyes, he let his breathing slow, his body relax.

He dreamt of his wife's last moments almost every night, but fortunately he never saw her actual death. He'd seen it once, and that was enough. He preferred not to recall it unconsciously. But the second part of the dream…he hadn't dreamt that in many long years.

It was moments after he'd first seen his children. He'd held them in his strong arms and touched their minds in a way he'd never done before. He'd seen the vision as he connected with them, and in that moment he decided on their middle names…their Sith names. Shade, for the dark shadows of the man. And Ember, for the fiery flames of the woman. He still had no idea what the dream truly meant – besides the possibility of the Emperor's death – but he felt that the dark side had been calling him to give those names to the twins.

Why then was the dream returning after so long?

Shaking his head, Vader left his bed and called his lightsaber to him. Activating it, his blue eyes took in the reassuring red glow of the saber. He began to parry and spin, thrust and slash at an invisible opponent.

Maybe it was an imaginary adversary. Or maybe he was just fighting a dream.

.

* * *

.

The stars shone high above the neon haze of Imperial Center as Emperor Palpatine let his gaze wander toward the heavens. He took time to stare at the sky every night, no matter where he was. Somehow, though, it looked best from the surface of the world formerly known as Coruscant. The old man rested both hands on his gnarled cane, more out of habit than an actual need for it.

There had been a time when he could only dream of ruling over a galaxy such as the one he now controlled. There had been nights when he had stared at the dark sky alone and nights when he'd shared an inconspicuous balcony with another. He remembered one night in particular, because it had been the night when he realized that his plans had finally begun to fall into place.

The Emperor remembered gliding out of his secret apartments that night, along with one of his former apprentices. The man was by no means younger than Palpatine, but he had only in recent years begun his Sith training. His apprentice was preparing to leave for a secret meeting to discuss separation from the Republic. The Sith Master and his protégé discussed which worlds and which senators would be easiest to ensnare first. Then after his apprentice left him alone on the balcony, Palpatine watched the stars in quiet anticipation.

The Emperor smirked at the memory. The foolish politicians had had no idea what was truly in store for their precious Republic. He had planned the war from the very beginning, long before any of them realized. When they voted him in as Supreme Chancellor, they had not a clue of his true intensions or of how deep his influence really reached.

He allowed himself a quiet laugh. The Jedi had not seen it – not until it was too late. How unfortunate for them.

And how very fortunate for him.

"Your Excellency?"

The Emperor turned his head to the side, spotting the lieutenant out of the corner of his eye. "What is it?" He did not hide the irritation in his voice.

The lieutenant hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth to speak. "Excellency, the intelligence reports have come in…and it seems that a copy of the plans for your secret construction project has been stolen."

That was certainly not good news. The Emperor turned fully to face the man. "And who stole them?"

"Why…the Rebels, Excellency."

"I see," he murmured. The Emperor stroked his chin with one bone-white finger. He was angry, to be sure, but then again he had expected something to leak out. Something always did. "Send word to Lord Vader that he is to leave at dawn and track down these Rebel spies."

"As you command, Excellency." The man offered a stiff military bow, then scampered out of the throne room.

The Emperor watched the retreating figure. His apprentice would take care of the matter. And if he did not…well, it wouldn't matter. The Emperor had powerful methods of persuasion. The weapon was completed – quite before schedule in fact – and it would need to be tested. If the Rebels were determined not to hand over their copy of the plans, then he would simply order that the weapon be tested on several targets, all of which would be very dear to the leaders of the Rebellion.

The old man turned back to the viewport and stared up at the stars. No one could stand in his way. He'd proven this over the last seventeen years. No…he'd proved it ever since he first set his plans in motion. It would not change now. There was no being capable of stopping him.

_That's not true._

He narrowed his eyebrows. Yes, there existed beings with the ability to put an end to his reign. But with proper timing and care, he would make sure they never realized their full power. And hopefully they would never reach full maturity either.

Another wicked smirk.

He let his dark laughter bubble out of him like a vile liquid. In the void of his throne room he laughed and laughed and laughed. They would never stop him. His reign would be everlasting.

It was good to be Emperor.

.

* * *

.

"Javan…Javan my boy, you must wake up."

The young diplomat moaned in protest as he came out of his slumber. Above him he could discern the outline of Bail Organa. "Cousin? What is the matter?" He rubbed his bleary eyes.

"We don't have time. I need to ask you a favor." The older man pulled Javan out of bed. Javan reached for a tunic.

"Yes, of course. What is it?" He pulled the tunic over his head and hastily smoothed down his black hair.

Bail placed his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "Javan, I need you to go to Bothawui." He looked his cousin dead in the eyes. "Tonight."

"Bothawui! Now Bail—"

"Javan, please! Just listen. I need you to go and meet with some of the Bothan and Rebel spies that I've been working with. They contacted me and told me that it was urgent. I'd go myself, but it would be suspicious. The Empire is most certainly keeping close tabs on me if they weren't already."

Javan stared at his cousin in disbelief. It was the middle of the night. As if that wouldn't look suspicious. "Bail…"

"Please trust me, Javan."

The look in his cousin's eyes tore at his heart. The young man sighed. "I'll go," he murmured.

Bail clasped Javan's hands between his. "With all my heart and soul, thank you." He leaned in closer. "I fear that the news will not bode well for the Alliance at all. You must leave now."

Javan nodded. When he decided to join the Rebellion he had never imagined that mere hours later he would be blasting off to do unknown business with alien allies. _Force protect me_, he thought bleakly. _I'm going to need it_.

.


	6. Chapter Five: Into the Underbelly

Chapter Five: Into the Underbelly

* * *

Dawn broke over the Imperial Palace as Princess Leia Naberrie crept quietly out into the city. She'd tricked a palace guard into thinking she was one of the departing night shift. As she slid along one of the back entrance security passages, she hugged her dark cloak closer, keeping the hood low over her face. She and Luke were rarely seen in public, and when they were they kept their faces shrouded. Still, she didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, at least not until she was clear of the palace.

Now as she strode out into the lower level walkways, she cringed. The odor was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Not only that, but her mental senses were being bombarded. Somehow being inside the palace or near her father served as a barricade for outside distraction. The awesome Force presence of one such as her father was enough to occupy her senses. Now that she was away from him and from the safety of the palace, she realized how many things lived on Imperial Center.

Leia could feel the presences of both humans and aliens lying underneath the garbage piles, trying to shield themselves from dangerous passersby. She was also aware of the hostile atmosphere that permeated this sector of the city. Looking over her shoulder, she realized how far away from home she was. In the distance she could see the sun reflecting off of the metal surface of the palace. It rose high above the level that Leia was now on. The skyscrapers around it did not hold quite the same majesty as the palace. But even the sunlight could do nothing to improve the coldness that seemed to shroud the towering building.

Leia shuddered involuntarily. Looking away from her reluctant home, she pressed forward, trying to discern the best course to follow. She really didn't have any clue as to where the best pilots would frequent. There were cantinas and clubs aplenty on Imperial Center, but there weren't necessarily many good pilots. Or even credible pilots, for that matter. She was a fair pilot in her own right, and she would have flown herself if she weren't afraid that the Emperor or her father would find out where she'd gone.

The emerging sun revealed several shopkeepers opening their doors to business, while others closed for the day. The nightclubs, naturally. Leia walked by these little stores and turned onto another walkway, spotting a public turbolift. She could stay on this filthy level and hope for the best, or go further up and risk recognition. Biting her lip, Leia turned away from the turbolift. She'd take her chances down here, in the underbelly.

The princess trudged forward through the scattered garbage and around the sleeping vagabonds. Somehow she hadn't thought finding a pilot would be difficult, but now she realized that it might take a while. But she was determined not to turn back. She had to meet Senator Organa, no matter what the costs were. She was her father's daughter, and she would never give up.

.

* * *

.

He'd promised himself that he would never come back here unless he had no other alternative. So much for promises.

The young man placed one hand over his holster, checking that his blaster was there. One could never be too careful on Imperial Center. He'd learned that a long time ago, when he'd been on the run.

_You're still on the run, you idiot. The Navy doesn't like you any more now than it did when you got kicked out._ That voice in his head – maybe it was his conscience – was always piping in at the worst times.

_Shut up_, he thought to himself. He glanced behind him, watching his ship grow smaller as he stalked off of the landing platform. He'd left his copilot on board, claiming that this was business he needed to attend to alone. Besides…Wookiees weren't very welcome on the Imp capital. Not unless they had a slave collar around their neck.

The man checked his surroundings, then took the turbolift down to one of the lower levels of the city. With any luck, he'd find the slimeball he was looking for with ease and be off of this no good planet before nightfall.

And with a little more luck he'd avoid running into any Imp agents.

As he continued walking his com beeped, and with mild annoyance, he answered it. "Solo here."

A low rumbling growl met his ears.

He nodded. "You're sure that's his ship?" Another growl. "Okay, Chewie…if you say so. I'll check it out." Tucking the com under his jacket, the young pilot sighed and headed into the filthy slums.

.

* * *

.

"My lord, the _Devastator_is ready for you."

Vader lifted his black cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders. He adjusted the black gloves that he wore, paying a bit more attention to the one on the right hand. Turning to the hologram, he nodded. "And my shuttle?"

"Also prepared to take you to your ship, my lord."

Vader nodded once more. "Good." He switched off the hologram and headed for the door. Hardly dawn, and here he was hurrying offworld. Then again, he was used to it. The Emperor often needed him to leave Imperial Center, mostly to engage Rebels or make some show of power. He normally didn't mind, even though the work was beneath him. He was a warrior, not an errand boy. Still, he realized that things had to be done, so he complied. He only wished he didn't have to leave his children behind so often.

They'd had a nursemaid when they were infants, and they'd been under her care for much of their childhood. But once they reached age ten, Vader had decided that they should be completely under his care. Yes, he'd raised them from infancy, but he hadn't always been the one teaching them or watching over them. He certainly hadn't been able to train them like he should have. He blamed Leia's inability to maintain her anger for extended periods on the fact that she and Luke had been cared for by someone other than their father.

Still, he realized that the twins had needed a female influence in their lives. They had no mother – their nursemaid was the closest thing. Vader didn't even know the woman's real name. She had called herself Winama Janren, but Vader knew that was only an alias. It still seemed familiar somehow, even if it wasn't her real name. From the way she cared for the twins, he could tell she had children of her own. Whether they were living or dead, he could not say.

Vader knew that Winama had once been a beautiful woman, but when she had come to him it was clear that she had been through much. There were several jagged scars across her left cheek, and her brown hair had begun to gray – more from stress than age. She did her job well, and though Vader never really knew exactly what things she taught the children, he had trusted her. Winama died shortly after the twins' tenth birthday, probably because she was no longer needed. It was unfortunate, but Vader admitted to himself that since she wasn't required, it wasn't much of a loss.

And with such thoughts whirling around in his head, Vader made his way to the shuttle that would take him to his flagship.

.

* * *

.

It was the dead of night on Tatooine when Cal awoke to the sound of howling. In his half-dreamy state he wasn't sure if it was the wind or some desert creature that was making the awful racket. On the other side of the little house, he could hear someone moving around. Probably his mother. She often had trouble getting to sleep.

Cal sighed and leaned back on his pillow. The howling was still going on, and now he was starting to think that it was definitely not the wind. Just as he began to think about what it could be, he felt his eyelids close and his mind fog with sleep.

.

* * *

.

The diplomatic vessel cruised along through hyperspace with ease while Javan watched the stars streak by. He tapped his fingers absently on the console. There was no escaping that particular nervous habit.

The pilot hit a com switch and seemed to be listening to someone speak. He murmured a few words, then switched it off. "Sir, we have some news from the Bothans."

Javan sat up straight, turning to the pilot. "What news?"

"The Empire has begun to trace them. They sent the data to a trusted spy on Tatooine."

Javan leaned back in his chair, wondering what he should do. He'd promised Bail that he would go to Bothawui, but now the data was on Tatooine. Couldn't the Imperials trace the trail to that planet? He tapped the console with maddening intensity. He had little choice. The Empire would find the Rebel on Tatooine…if he didn't get the data from this spy, then the Alliance would lose the information completely, before it even discovered what it was.

"Pilot, hail the Bothans. Tell them to let their spy on Tatooine know that we are coming to get the data."

"Yes, sir."

Javan sighed as he watched the ship come out of hyperspace and prepare to set a new course. Right now it would be daytime on Alderaan. He wished he could be there, but at the same time he knew that he had left his innocence behind the moment he'd spoken to Bail by the fireplace the night before. This was his life now. He had an Empire to fight.

.

* * *

.

It was midday and still no sign of the assassin. Cryger's information had pointed them to this location – an abandoned storehouse – but so far all they'd found was a drunk vagabond, a couple of ugly rodents, and loads of trash.

Mara Jade kicked a broken holoproj and one of the nasty rodents scurried out from under it. She eyed it with disgust. This place was filthy and definitely empty. There was no one here. At least no one that she could sense was of any importance.

Captain Cryger stepped over the sleeping drunk and approached Mara. "My lady, it appears that the man we are looking for has left this residence." He made it sound like the assassin had just checked out of a classy hotel.

The young woman rolled her eyes. "Are you sure, Captain?" Mara replied, barely concealing her annoyance. As if she hadn't figured it out already. "He can't have gone far. We just tracked him here not two hours ago."

"Begging your pardon, my lady, but he could easily have gone far."

Mara cocked her head to the side so she could get a better look at the captain. A retort sprung to her lips and died there before she could let it loose. The captain was right. She might as well bite her tongue and keep searching.

Making her way back to the speeder, she glanced at the three soldiers who had accompanied Cryger. They were in civilian clothing, but they were obviously military personnel. They couldn't even walk without giving it away. They smirked at her, as if they thought it was amusing that a girl had come with them. She returned their stares, satisfied with the knowledge that she could easily dispatch them. Well…maybe not easily, but she could do it.

Cryger gunned the engine, and the five Imperials took off through the air. The captain handed Mara a small tracker of some kind. "That shows how far he could have gone since we last traced his position." He swerved to avoid a wild driver. "Where to first, my lady?"

Mara scanned the tracker. If she were a grown-up and fully trained assassin, where would she go? She shut her eyes and tried to let the Force compel her. Opening her eyes again, she looked at the tracker. Would she head further into the slums, where she'd be expected to go but would be hard to follow? Or would she head for the more dangerous surface buildings, where no one would expect her to go?

_I do love a challenge. Maybe this assassin does too._

"Captain, let's head for the upper levels. I've got a feeling that's where we'll find our man."

The captain grunted his affirmative and swung the speeder upward, cutting through many layers of traffic before finally breaking into the sunlight. They cruised around the area, looking for the most promising hideouts.

Mara let her eyes glide along the buildings. She saw a strip of shops that looked modest enough. There was a diner off to one side of the strip, and she looked over at Cryger. "There. Let's start at that diner."

The speeder eased onto the landing platform, and Mara jumped out of the vehicle before it even touched the ground. She strode toward the diner, aware of the four men behind her, trying to keep up. As she approached the diner, she felt an odd twinge in the pit of her stomach. Was that him? The holovids had shown the assassin's ability to use the Force. She should be able to sense him.

The girl stepped through the door, noting the light, busy atmosphere. A droid rolled by her, balancing a large plate of drinks on one hand and a dish on the other. "Honey, we got a customer!" The droid had a distinctly feminine voice. Mara liked it, despite herself. Behind the counter appeared a lobster-like alien. He was quite large, with four arms and a slightly menacing face. Something told her that he was not at all dangerous – at least not around honest people.

"What can I get for ya, little one?" the alien asked.

Mara walked to the counter. "Have you seen a red-haired man wearing black clothes come through here? He's about this tall, I believe." She lifted her hand high above her head to indicate the assassin's height.

The alien laughed. "I see a lot of people come in here."

Mara leaned in toward the bulky creature. "Sir, I think you're smarter than you look. Have you seen the man I'm searching for?"

The alien's laugh died down. "The name's Dex, miss. No need to call me sir. You're obviously of higher importance than I am." He eyed the clothes she wore. A dark blue jumpsuit and black boots, along with a holster.

The holster. It was made of fine leather. The alien – Dex – must have noticed it.

"Dex, I really need to find this man," Mara felt her voice begin to edge toward whining. She didn't want to have to beg like a child or threaten the man like a criminal.

Dex stroked his chin thoughtfully. "He was here, if it's the same one you want. He just left right before you came in."

Mara felt her eyes widen. "Thank you, Dex. You've been most helpful."

"Anytime, miss."

The girl bolted out the door before Dex could offer her something to eat or drink. She saw Cryger waiting by the corner of the building with his men.

"Well?" One of the soldiers asked expectantly. Mara glared at him.

"He just left. I think he's still around." She could feel something…it was nudging her, pulling at her. Her stomach was still twisting around. "This way, and quietly." She signaled for the men to follow her around to the back of the diner. The uneasiness grew stronger. It must be him…he must be back there.

Reaching out through the Force, she felt someone sitting against the back wall of the diner. He was awake, and…

He was waiting.

.

* * *

.

The problem with plans was that they sometimes went wrong. Aidan realized that his situation was a perfect example of this. He had emerged from the underbelly of Imperial Center hoping to avoid any other competitors who would be looking for him down there. Not only had this plan failed, but he could now sense _five_people following him. He'd even gone into a respectable diner – a place he never thought he would enter – in order to throw off his pursuers. That didn't work either.

He was done playing around. Whoever these creeps were, he could handle them. Aidan smirked. Just like he had taken care of that upstart wannabe down near Surna's joint. The assassin pulled out the blaster that he'd taken from the kid. It was a good weapon, but he still preferred his vibroblade. A blaster would work better on five people, though.

He settled himself against the wall behind the diner, waiting for his attackers to come. He could sense each one of them, but one in particular caught his extra attention. It was like a beacon in the midst of a fog. It even made his gut feel a little knotted. _Or maybe it was the food I ate. What was in that stuff?_ Aidan shook his head. He had to be focused.

The first man came around the corner too fast, as though he had missed an order to stay concealed. Before he could even spot what he was looking for, he lay dead on the ground with a blaster wound smoking in his forehead. Aidan crouched close to a garbage can. He'd lost the element of surprise now. They knew he was here. He held his blaster in preparation. Two blaster bolts sizzled overhead. They were trying to spook him out of hiding. Amateurs.

"Come out of there, you can't win!" A man's voice shouted.

Aidan laughed. "You'll have to come here and get me! We'll see who wins."

The remaining men muttered around the corner, probably trying to come up with a plan. Aidan waited. They would never get him.

More blasts rang through the air, and two more men jumped out and charged the place where Aidan was hiding. Calling on his invisible ally, Aidan ripped the weapons from the hands and fired with his own. They fell to their knees, and Aidan stood up. Taking out his vibroblade, he approached the men. One of the attackers rolled onto his back, dead. The other moaned, his face in the ground. Aidan took the blade and held it near the back of the man's neck. "Your friend dies if you try to kill me again."

The man who had spoken earlier stepped out from behind the wall with a girl at his side. "We don't want to kill you."

Aidan frowned, then let his mouth curve into a vicious grin. "Oh sure, right. You're just here for sport." He eyed the redheaded girl, wondering what she was doing with these men. Strange.

The man, who looked like an army captain or something similar, cleared his throat. "The Emperor wishes to see you, assassin."

Aidan laughed once more. "The Emperor?" His eyes shot upward. "His Excellency, Emperor Palpatine? Well then, by all means, please take me to him!" He continued to shake with amusement.

The girl grew indignant. She stepped past the captain. "You mock your Emperor?" Her voice was cold and threatening.

Aidan stopped laughing and stared straight into her eyes. His stomach rolled over, but he ignored it. "He's not _my_ Emperor, kid. He'll never be _my_ Emperor." The young assassin moved his vibroblade and let it slice through the back of his prisoner's neck. He saw the girl and the captain both flinch. "I'm not going anywhere." He yanked out the blaster and shot at the captain's heart.

Within half a heartbeat, Aidan felt the blaster being knocked out of his hand by his own blaster bolt. Staring in amazement, he watched as the weapon clattered across the ground. Looking back, he saw the girl was standing in front of the man with a glowing red sword in her hand.

A lightsaber.

Aidan recovered from his momentary shock in time to grab his vibroblade and get out of the girl's way.

She walked slowly toward him, her lightsaber held over her head like a long dagger. "Give up," she ordered icily.

Aidan refused in his heart to ever admit defeat, but somehow his mind had already done so. He knew he couldn't win right now, not against that weapon. He backed away toward the wall, looking for an escape, but of course there was none.

The girl glared at him. "I don't have all day. You can make this easy, or you can make it difficult."

"I thought you weren't going to kill me."

"Kill, no. Maim…that all depends on you." The girl coiled her body in preparation for attack.

Aidan felt the sweat gathering on his forehead. Normally such a threat coming from a mere child would have amused him, but since he was clearly on the defensive, he took her seriously. "What's in it for me?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe everything. At least all your limbs will be intact."

This girl had a sense of humor not unlike his own. He lowered his vibroblade. "All right. I'll go with you, kid."

She shut off her weapon. "Don't think that just because I turned it off you can escape. I'm not the Emperor's Hand for nothing." She clipped the lightsaber onto her belt.

Aidan looked her over. She seemed a little young to be…what was it? Emperor's _Hand_? Where did the guy come up with these names? Just call her an assassin or a bodyguard, if that was what she was. Aidan shook his head. How Palpatine had ever come to power was beyond him.

He let a dark grin play across his face. "Lead on, kid." He held out his hands and let the captain – who had seemed stunned until now – put binders on his wrists. "I'm going to regret this."

.


	7. Chapter Six: What Dawn Reveals

Chapter Six: What Dawn Reveals

* * *

"Can you believe that they would…"

"…never thought it would happen…"

"What made them do it?"

Cal rolled over onto his stomach and let his head hang over the side of the bed as he half-listened to the hurried conversation in the other room. From the smoky blue light creeping through his tiny window, Cal could tell it was just before sunup. Time for him to head out to the Lars homestead.

Groggily he twisted around and lifted himself out of bed, placing his feet on the floor. With a giant yawn, the young man pulled his sun-worn tunic over his head, not bothering to straighten his ruffled, light brown hair. Grabbing his cheap boots, he headed for the kitchen, which also served as the entranceway for the Nightrunner home.

As he came into the kitchen he saw his mother and father sitting at the table, talking to a man who was standing near the door. Their conversation became hushed as Cal stood in the opening between the kitchen and his bedroom. His pale blue eyes darted from his mother's pained expression, to the anger on his father's features, and finally to the grim set of the other man's jaw. He recognized the man as Huff Darklighter, a food magnate and one of the wealthiest human citizens on Tatooine. Cal was a friend of Huff's son, Biggs, but they had never been exceptionally close. The only real common ground between them was that they both wanted to get off of Tatooine.

Cal walked around the table toward his mother, watching the look on her face go from bad to worse. "Mom," he said gently. "What's wrong?" He knelt down beside her as she bit back tears. Tani placed her face in her hands. Cal looked over at his father. "Dad?"

Eram sighed, trying to let off some steam. "Damn monsters," he muttered. "Why don't they just leave us alone?"

Huff Darklighter placed a hand on Eram's shoulder and looked over at Cal. "We received a message not ten minutes ago that there were Tusken Raiders attacking the settlements out beyond Anchorhead. Biggs and I are letting everyone know, just so we can all be ready if they come here."

Cal felt his eyes widen involuntarily. "Attacking? But they haven't done more than damage vaporators for the last two decades."

Darklighter nodded. "I know. But there's no mistake. A young couple escaped their homestead and came into Anchorhead as Biggs and I were setting out. They were attacked, and the husband's father was killed."

Tani continued to muffle her cries in the palms of her small hands. Eram pounded the table, making Cal jump up in surprise. "Damn those animals!" He pointed at Tani, glaring somewhere beyond the small hovel. "Wasn't the last time enough? Didn't they spill enough blood? What more do they want?"

"Revenge," came a whisper from behind Tani's hands. She drew her face away from her palms and looked at Huff with tear-filled eyes. "You said they were moving from homestead to homestead, just murdering and moving on?"

"That's what it sounds like."

Tani shook her head. "It can only be revenge. Not even the sandpeople would attack so furiously unless they wanted revenge and they'd been planning it for a long time."

Cal stared at his mother, who now seemed eerily calm and hard. The young farm hand leaned down and took hold of his mother's left hand, trying to offer comfort. It was obvious she was remembering the death of her brother and the twenty-five other settlers. Cal glanced up at his father, unsure of what to do.

Eram looked into his son's eyes. "Guess that crazy farmer was right."

Cal thought of what Beru had told him the other day. Owen had known something would happen. And no one would have ever believed him. Now they would know he was not so crazy after all.

Lightning struck at Cal's very core, and for a second he forgot how to breathe. Owen and Beru were out there right now, alone and vulnerable to attack. Right in the path of the Tuskens. He didn't know why he felt so strongly for the farmer and his wife, but the feeling pounded at his temples like blood rushing to his head.

Darklighter made for the door. "I'm going to Drin's next. Do you want to come?" He glanced at Tani. "Or maybe just stay here and prepare yourselves?"

Drin was Eram's brother. Cal suddenly had an idea. He strode over to Darklighter. "I'll go with you."

"Fine with me. Let's go." The man turned his back and walked out the door.

Cal turned back to his mother. A knowing look passed between them. "I won't be long." Without another word he dashed out into the sandy street, the door closing behind him.

The first of Tatooine's suns had begun to creep over the horizon and was casting a dim light across the small town. Cal didn't need to follow Huff Darklighter; he knew exactly where his uncle's house was. He flew his landspeeder past the grocer's and took a right. At the first hovel he stopped. Huff was waiting for him. Cal hopped out of his speeder as the other man knocked. The door opened seconds later; Uncle Drin was always up before dawn, fiddling with spare parts. Cal and Huff walked into the little home.

"Cal! What are you doing here so early?" Drin Nightrunner asked in surprise.

Huff spoke up. "Tuskens are attacking the homesteads, not just raiding them. They're not stopping to steal anything; they just keep moving. We're letting everyone know."

As Drin digested the information, another young man came hurrying from the back room. "Cal?" His face was a mixture of happiness and confusion. Cal walked over to his cousin, who at age seventeen was two years Cal's junior, and grabbed his arm.

"We have to go, Seek. To the Lars's."

Both Huff and Drin jerked their heads toward Cal in surprise. "What?" Drin nearly yelled.

"I have to make sure Owen and Beru are all right," Cal answered. He pulled Seek toward the door.

The younger boy looked back and forth between his cousin and his father. "Dad, they're all alone out there."

"So are a lot of people. There's nothing we can do!" Drin raged.

"But Owen knew this would happen!" Cal interjected. "He knew something was wrong with them. I can't let them die!" How could he explain why he needed to go? It just wasn't right for them to be hurt, when they had a loyal friend who could help them.

Friend. Cal would have laughed if the situation weren't so critical. He had just called himself Owen and Beru's friend. He thought of the way Beru always greeted him as if he were her own son. How she always invited him to stay for supper. How she had secret strength hidden inside her that not everyone could see. Cal couldn't let her die.

The two older men stared at the younger ones in silence. Cal finally broke the quiet. "I'm nineteen, I'm grown up." His eyes pleaded with his uncle. "I'm going."

Drin bowed his head for a moment, his shoulders slumping wearily. "Just be careful," he told his son.

Seek nodded gravely. "Let's go," he urged Cal. The two cousins hurried out the door and jumped into Cal's speeder, taking off toward the edge of the town.

They reached the desert and quickly gained speed. Along the way they noticed two black clouds rising into the sky. Cal realized it was smoke from burning homesteads. Thankfully they were not in the direction of Owen's home. He kept driving.

The trip seemed to last an eternity, but it was probably nowhere near as long as it took Cal to walk out to the homestead. When they arrived, he and Seek tumbled out of the speeder. The domed hovel seemed undamaged. The two boys jogged over to the large opening to the right of the dome that led to the courtyard. Peering into it, Cal noticed a few gaffi sticks embedded in the walls. Beyond the courtyard, Seek was studying the ground.

"What is it?" Cal called out.

Seek shook his head. "Bantha tracks!" he called back. "They're gone now though."

Cal felt his heart plummet into his stomach at the news. So the Tuskens had been here. He raced back to the dome and stepped down, finding the door open. He descended the stairs cautiously in case Seek was mistaken. As he reached the level ground he heard moaning. Hope filled his being as he followed it. He came to the door of Owen and Beru's bedroom. It was closed.

"Owen? Beru?" There was a shuffling behind the door and the sound of rapid steps. The door opened, and a familiar face greeted the young farm hand.

"Cal!"

He braced himself as Beru wrapped her arms around him. She was crying – the poor woman was crying! He hugged her tight. Why didn't she have any sons? Someone to help her.

_That's why_ I'm _here_.

"Cal, you came all the way out here! I can't believe it."

"I brought my cousin, too." He peered into the room and saw Owen lying on the bed, his legs hastily bandaged.

Beru followed his gaze. "He's lost a lot of blood. But we don't have a speeder, and he's too big to carry across the back of the swoop. Even if I could drive it as well as he can." Her voice was quiet but steady. She wiped away her tears. "Come in?"

Cal allowed himself to be led to Owen's bedside. The gruff man was glaring into space, muttering unintelligible words under his breath. His face was dirty and there were scratches all across his hands. "Mindless monsters…mindless monsters…" he repeated.

Beru leaned over him, caressing his forehead. "Owen, we're going to get you to Anchorhead and get you healed."

Owen jerked his body toward her. "It's all his fault you know." His voice was angry and pained. For a second Cal thought the farmer was talking about him, but then Owen continued. "It's his fault. He brought their wrath down on us all."

Beru tried to calm him. "It's been over twenty years, Owen…"

"That doesn't matter! They know what happened! A whole tribe of sandpeople doesn't just disappear!" He struggled to sit up but fell back onto the bed. Cal watched in morbid fascination. "Damn him! They know what happened to that tribe and they've been planning revenge. With no one here powerful enough to control them."

"Owen…" Beru pleaded.

"Damn you, Anakin! Damn you!" The farmer's face crumpled in anguish as he finally focused on his wife. "Oh Beru, I wish he'd never come here." His voice was full of unshed tears.

Beru hugged Owen, wiping the sweat off of his brow. "It's not his fault, Owen." She was crying again. "They would have burned down this entire place and murdered us if it weren't for Anakin." A strangled sound issued from Owen's throat. "They wouldn't have been too scared to keep going. They know that he was here all those years ago, and they were afraid."

"No…"

"They were afraid that Anakin would show up and slaughter them all."

Cal backed up against the wall, watching as Beru cradled her husband, trying desperately to calm him. "I'll be right back, ma'am," he said quickly, running back up to the surface.

Seek was standing on the edge of the courtyard wall. Cal waved at him. "Seek! Owen is injured. We've got to get him to Anchorhead!" He saw Seek nod and come running over to the hovel. They both ran down the steps and stood by the bed.

Owen was quiet again, and for the first time seemed to notice the other people in the room. "Cal," he murmured. "Thank the stars. Get me off this bloody bed, will you?"

The boys gently lifted Owen off of the bed and walked toward the steps. Beru trailed behind them, holding the ends of Owen's bandages that hung from his body. Finally they made it to the speeder. Cal noticed several other clouds of smoke looming on the horizon. The Tuskens had indeed barreled through the ring of homesteads. He shuddered at the thought of meeting one of the creatures alone.

The four of them settled in the speeder, and without another thought, Cal gunned the engine. They left a cloud of dust behind them as the homestead disappeared against the sand.

Cal drove on across the desert, his mind lost in thought. He'd had no idea what Owen was carrying on about back in the hovel, but whatever it was, he felt it had something to do with the story his mother had told him two days ago. Cal just couldn't understand how it would all fit together. And who was Anakin? His mother had never said anything about an Anakin before. But whoever he was, he was dangerous. That much Cal had discerned. Anyone or anything that could take on a tribe of Tusken Raiders was a force to be reckoned with.

A shiver crawled down his spine as he continued across the vast brown landscape. This was all beyond his understanding, and not just because he didn't have all the information. There was something in Owen and Beru's voices that had hinted of a history he knew nothing about. A history that perhaps extended beyond Tatooine.

He shook his head. His focus now should be getting Owen medical attention as soon as possible. He glanced over at Seek who sat in the passenger seat. His cousin's face was pale. They exchanged a quick look of despair as more of the thick black smoke billowed against the morning sky.

.

* * *

.

The patrons of this cantina knew not to mess with Aari. When she'd entered the dimly lit subterranean bar she was so angry she could have killed the first drunk male who came up to her. Fortunately for them, they recognized the murderous glint in her hazel eyes and stayed at a safe distance. She dropped into a seat at one of the small circular tables. Quickly she set her blaster on the table, letting everyone in the cantina know that she refused to be trifled with.

She was prepared to wait all day long for Vic to arrive. If it took more than a day, she would remain in her seat. He had to pay for his betrayal, and she would definitely be here when he came. He had probably stolen the cargo intended for her, and was on his way to Tatooine to present it to Jabba the Hutt and collect all of the credits for himself. The selfish pig. She should never for an instant have trusted the man behind that cocky grin.

There was one thing she knew about Vic for sure. He would not pass up the opportunity to gloat in the local cantina. She smiled in the smoky light. He was going to get the shock of his life when he saw her here, unharmed.

Aari glanced around at some of the other bar patrons. She watched the Bith band play light tunes on their instruments. They were actually quite good. If she weren't so upset, she might have enjoyed their music. Drumming her fingers next to her blaster, she thought about the ambush at Rodia. Despite all her anger, she had to admit that the betrayal had hurt very much. She couldn't stand Vic, but she had trusted him to an extent. More than she should have, obviously.

Aari sighed gruffly. Tatooine was such a hostile planet, with nothing but sand and more sand to gaze at, interrupted by the occasional town or spaceport. When she'd arrived she immediately noticed the light wind blowing sand into her hair. It stuck to her face, too. Then it had gotten into her boots. The natives of the planet seemed to be oblivious to the irritating matter. But Aari had never really been to a desert planet, and she found the environment stifling and uncivilized.

The young woman sighed again. _I should never have left Corellia_, she heard her own voice echo in her head. It was all too true. She'd been seventeen when she finally left the planet with an old smuggler she had befriended. At age nineteen they had parted, Aari with her own ship and the dream of being free to go anywhere and do anything that she wanted. Of course this led her to follow her mentor's steps and become a smuggler. Not two months after leaving the old man, she had met Vic Phancil.

Why had she agreed to let him help her? He was just a smooth-talking cheat. He had told her that he worked as a mediator between new smugglers and their employers. He claimed that he did it to protect the naïve ones from being suckered in or possibly eliminated.

Lies. They were all lies. Aari wished she had a drink just so that she could hurl the container across the cantina. That would have made her feel better for the moment. Taking a deep breath, the young woman steadied herself against the edge of the table, focusing on why she was here in the first place. She had to be calm so that when Vic arrived he would not suspect she was angry. Then she would let him have it.

Again she smiled. Oh was he ever going to get it.

.


	8. Chapter Seven: Unlikely Alliances

Chapter Seven: Unlikely Alliances

* * *

A dark curtain was falling across the skyline of Imperial Center; but even as it did so, the city lights exploded in an array of color. Princess Leia hurried along one of the thousands of walkways in the city, aware that this was the time when less than reputable characters emerged from their holes and filtered into the gambling joints and nightclubs.

She wasn't afraid of the cloaked figures skulking along the edges of buildings – she could handle them. She just didn't want to attract attention to her Sith skills. That would bring the Empire down on her so quickly it would make a podrace look sluggish. She couldn't be dragged back to the palace. She still had to speak to Senator Organa.

There was one nightclub that seemed to glow brighter than the others, and feeling a strange tug in that direction, Leia made her way through the crowd and into the establishment.

As soon as she entered she began to analyze her surroundings. She recognized a few beings that looked slightly alien, although most of the patrons were humans. Leia had never understood the Emperor's animosity toward non-humans. It was ridiculous. She continued on to the bar, wondering if the bartender would believe she was old enough to purchase alcohol. She wouldn't actually drink it – she just didn't want to be too conspicuous.

The other people around her seemed to part as she walked, giving her a small path toward the bar. It was as if they knew she was somehow important. _Strange_, she thought to herself as she lowered her hood. _I haven't done anything out of the ordinary._

Something her father had once told her rang in her memory. It had been several years ago, but she could recall every word as though it had just been spoken.

_"The average lifeform cannot feel the Force, but they sometimes sense when a Force-wielder is in their midst. You come from a special bloodline, Leia. You will attract attention, just as I did. Just as Luke will. Our strength in the Force is so great that it can hardly be contained. And people will be able to tell that you are special when you walk by."_

The young princess nodded her head at the memory. So it was true. Her father had been right after all. Leia thought for a moment as she came toward the bar. Had her mother attracted such attention as well?

The question slipped through her mind and disappeared as she sat down on a stool at the counter. The bartender glanced over at her, his eyes puzzled. He walked over to her. "Can I get ya something?"

Leia allowed herself a cool smile. "Yes…I'll have the Corellian Ale."

The bartender gave her a surprised look. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The man shook his head. "All right then." He turned and filled a small glass with the liquid. He turned and handed it to Leia.

"Thanks," she spoke up as he walked away. She looked down at the drink, picking up the glass and turning it around in her hand.

"Good choice."

Leia spun around, trying to find where the voice had come from. A neon fuchsia light flashed over her right shoulder, and she caught a glimpse of a tall, rugged-looking young man with shaggy brown hair. She blinked as the light moved on; but he was still there, his features bathed in shadow. He pointed at her drink. "That's a good choice," he repeated.

Leia felt her guard leap up instantly. Why was this man talking to her? The princess narrowed her eyes. "I know," she replied shortly. She didn't really know, but she wasn't going to talk to the man any more than she had to.

Seconds passed, and she could still feel him behind her, staring at her back. Leia turned abruptly. "_What_?" she asked, the irritation apparent in her voice.

The man cocked one eyebrow. "Just wondering what a kid like you is doing with a shot of Corellian Ale." He stepped closer, so that he was even with her right shoulder. He leaned in and stared at the glass, then looked over at Leia. "Lemme guess…fifteen, maybe sixteen?"

Leia huffed indignantly. "I am _nineteen_, thank you. And don't get any ideas."

This time the man smiled openly, his eyes dancing with wry amusement. "Ideas? Listen kid, the last thing I have on my mind is carrying off a little girl." He said the words with distaste, wrinkling his eyebrows for affect. "I just wonder why a kid is ordering ale in a lower level nightclub. That's all." He began to walk away. "It's not like I would have flown away with you, geez." He pushed through the crowd, away from the bar.

Leia felt something click in her mind. "Wait!" she called out. The man turned slightly, as if hesitant to stop. "Wait, please!" Leia hopped down from her stool and shoved her way through the patrons to get to the man. She stopped when she reached him and looked up at him. He was taller when she was standing on the ground, but still not quite as tall as her father. Leia took a quick breath. "You're a pilot?"

The man stared down at her with a mix of surprise and suspicion. "Yeah," he replied slowly. "Why?"

Leia felt her heart quicken. Maybe this was her ticket to Alderaan. "I need a ship."

The pilot tilted his head, studying the princess curiously. "Yeah?" He looked up and let his gaze glide over the club. "Sit down and we'll talk." He swept his right arm wide, gesturing for her to follow him. They forged a path through the mass of people, finally arriving at a small table for two. Leia sat down, followed by the pilot.

"So," the man started. "You need a ship." He watched as Leia nodded. "You got credits?"

Leia smirked. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small datachip. Examining it for a second, she then slapped it onto the table in front of the man. "There's ten thousand credits on that chip alone." She noticed his eyes widen. "That's the down payment. More will come if you get me where I want to go."

He picked up the chip, twirling it around in his fingers. "Really?" he murmured. His gaze became serious as he set the chip back on the table. "What if something happens, and I don't get you there?"

"Then you still keep the ten thousand."

The pilot eyes her carefully. "And you can afford to waste ten thousand credits?"

Leia just smiled confidently.

He whistled low, then picked up the chip and tucked it into his jacket. "So where do you want to go, kid?"

Leia leaned in closer. "Alderaan."

His eyebrows rose in curiosity. "Alderaan?" He scratched his chin for a second. "All right. Alderaan it is." He extended one hand. "Han Solo, captain of the _Millennium Falcon_. Looks like you've got yourself a ship, kid."

The princess placed her hand in his and shook solidly, without a second thought. "Leia," she added.

"Just Leia?" The girl nodded. "Okay, I won't ask questions." He glanced behind him, and Leia felt him tense up.

"What is it?" she asked quietly.

Han turned back to face her. "Will you be all right waiting by the door? I have some quick business to take care of."

Leia eyed him quizzically. "Sure." She got up from the table and headed for the door, wondering why he'd so abruptly decided he had business.

.

* * *

.

Han reached for his blaster and held it by his right hip as he approached the man he had come here to find. When he hadn't found him at his ship, Han had decided to delve into the lower levels to find his quarry. And here he was, just getting up from a booth. Han moved in to intercept. "Going somewhere, Tiras?" he asked coldly as he wedged the end of his blaster into the man's abdomen.

Tiras was small young man with light blonde hair and a look in his eyes resembling that of a trapped animal. He risked glancing down at the blaster as Han shoved him back toward the booth he'd come from. Han forced him into one side while he casually sat down on the other side.

"I thought you might want to discuss a little business, Tiras. Specifically the spice business." Han kept his blaster trained on the other man, while beneath the table he pulled a second, smaller blaster from a holster on his thigh.

Tiras ran a hand through his grimy hair. "Listen, Solo. I had nothing to do with—"

"Now wait a minute, friend," Han spoke soothingly. "I never said you did anything."

The other man clasped his hands together, aware of the trap that Han was weaving for him. "Of course not."

Han leaned back against the wall. "I know you'd never betray me to the Imperials. Not my friend Tiras." He examined the blaster, then looked back up at the blonde man. "I heard other smugglers talking when I was on Nar Shaddaa. They said there was a spice dealer who'd agreed to work for the Imps. Said he was pretending to steal spice and then sell it to smugglers, hoping to catch them and turn them over to the Empire. But I knew they were just rumors."

"Rumors, yeah." Tiras was trying not to fidget.

"When they started pointing fingers and mentioning your name, I knew they were imagining things." Han sat up a little straighter. "Even when I found out that Aari Zalash was ambushed by Imperials at Rodia, I refused to believe there was any betrayal there. Simply bad luck."

"That's exactly what it—"

"And _then_ not more than a few hours after Zalash nearly got herself blown up, I went to pick up my spice cargo, and who should arrive to greet me but three Star Destroyers and more TIEs than I care to count." Han's voice had lost its mocking tone. He stared deep into Tiras's eyes.

Tiras didn't answer.

Han tightened his grip on the blaster. "I knew the only place to look for you was here on the Imp Center, licking your new master's boots and celebrating your new career in the nightclubs. I hope the Empire knows you're a traitor and you always will be."

Without warning, Tiras swung one arm above the table, revealing a blaster. He fired as Han ducked down. Han dropped his first blaster as he kicked the table upward. It landed on Tiras, knocking him against the wall. He reached for his blaster as Han pulled out the smaller weapon he'd kept hidden. He let off a quick shot, and it was all he needed. The traitor lay with the tabletop pinning him against the wall. Han retrieved the blaster he had dropped when he kicked the table, and he tucked both weapons back into their holsters.

Walking away from the smoky booth, Han passed by the bartender, who was staring wide-eyed at the dead man. "Sorry about the mess," Han quipped, tossing a few credits toward the bar. He headed for the doorway, where the kid was waiting for him, a dark frown etched across her otherwise pretty little face.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked accusingly as she stepped into stride with him.

Han smiled grimly. "Yeah. Yeah it was." Together they left the nightclub and made their way to the hangar where Han had left his ship and his co-pilot. It would be an interesting trip.

.

* * *

.

The diplomatic vessel, _Tantive IV_, came out of hyperspace right above Tatooine. Its hull was painted with the colors and symbols of neutrality, but Javan didn't think that would save them should the Empire discover them here. He must be quick in getting the plans from the Rebel spy.

The pilot swiveled in his seat and faced the young Alderaanian diplomat. "So what's the plan?"

Javan pulled himself out of his thoughts, focusing on the task ahead. "Get me a secure line, and contact her on her private frequency."

The pilot nodded and turned back to the controls. Javan watched as he went through several codes and passwords. Finally – after Javan felt they'd wasted valuable time – the pilot identified himself to the com as "Blue Gem in the Sky." Javan had to stifle a laugh. It was certainly referring to Alderaan, but it sounded ridiculous nonetheless. The older man motioned for the other to take the com. "It's secure."

Javan leaned over the com, the graveness of his mission falling once again on his thoughts. "Tatooine agent, this is Representative Javan Madai of Alderaan. The Bothans informed me that they have entrusted you with information vital to the Alliance."

The line crackled, and the voice was laced with static as the spy responded. "Yes. I received the transmission last night. They gave me contact information about you and Organa, just in case."

Javan breathed deeply. The woman – he was certain it was a woman, despite the static – trusted him. Always a good start. "I fear that the Empire will trace the stolen data to you, just as they traced it to the Bothan agent who sent it to you. I'm here at Senator Organa's request, to return the plans to him on Alderaan."

There was a brief silence on the other end. "All right, Representative Madai." Her voice sounded rather strained. "This line is absolutely secure?"

"On our end, yes. I'm sure yours is."

"Yes…I'm sending the data." Again, the silence. Javan had the distinct feeling that she wasn't entirely focused on the matter at hand. Strange. Javan watched as the computer downloaded the data. He pulled out the datachips when they had finished completely. The spy suddenly returned. "You'd better get out of there quick! I think the Empire is due to land on top of you boys any second!"

And then she was gone, along with the transmission. Javan glanced over at the pilot incredulously. The other man returned his bewildered expression. "Do you think?" the older man asked quietly.

Javan stared at the tiny encrypted datachips he now held in the palms of his hands. "I don't know," he whispered thoughtfully.

A harsh beeping sound interrupted the silence, and both men automatically looked at the sensors. "She was right! It's the Imperials!" the pilot exclaimed. Javan felt his stomach twist as he tried to think of what to do.

"What did they send?"

"A Star Destroyer…the _Devastator_."

Javan blanched. That was Lord Vader's flagship. There was no way they would get out of this one. But they had to try. "Make a run for it."

"Sir?" The pilot stared at him wide-eyed.

"Now! Do it now!" Javan clenched his left fist together. He had to _think_! He was the leader here; he had to get them out of this. In his right hand he felt the datachips. Suddenly there was a spark of an idea in his head, and he raced out of the cockpit. Reaching for her personal comlink, he called his private quarters. "Veethree, meet me by the escape pods immediately!" He heard the prompt beep on the other end, then tucked the comlink in his belt pouch.

The escape pod area was empty except for one small flying droid. Its head was little more than egg-shaped dome with thin, wiry arms and a little antenna. Its "eyes" were bright red sensors, giving it the appearance of a little imp. This was V3-T5, Javan's personal droid assistant.

The young Alderaanian held the datachips up in the air. "Veethree, I need you to take these chips, take an escape pod, and hide out on Tatooine." The little droid beeped questioningly. "The Imperials are here, and they'll search Tatooine for you when they learn that I don't have the data."

The droid did its best to nod its head – or body, as it were. Javan couldn't help the sad grin that came to his face. "Good. Once the immediate threat is over, find a way to contact Bail or the Alliance. They'll come for you. The most important thing is to keep the data intact."

Javan quickly inserted the chips in Veethree's memory drive. Then he pulled out a thin disc. "I'll record a message for you in case you need it." An explosion rocked the ship, and Javan knew that there was no chance for escape now. The last hope was now in the hands of his trusted droid. Javan slid the disc into Veethree and stood up, preparing to give what might be his final farewell to the Alliance.

.

* * *

.

They made it back to Anchorhead by midday, and Cal was relieved to see that his hometown was still standing. He turned toward Seek, and for a brief second they allowed tired smiles to flit across their faces. Cal gunned his engines as they passed the first homes, and he sped through the town, heading for the medical station.

When the speeder pulled alongside the station, Cal and Seek hopped out and gently lifted Owen from the vehicle. Beru followed after them, stroking her husband's forehead as they entered the small building.

A short, younger man greeted them, rushing over to look at Owen. "The other doctor is out on an emergency." He ran his eyes over Owen's wounds. "The sandpeople?"

Cal nodded, remembering his mother's words of revenge and Owen's delirious rants.

"They were lucky. We've been getting reports since dawn. The death toll keeps rising." The doctor offered Beru a look of deep sympathy. "Don't worry, ma'am. We'll fix him up. He'll have to stay here for a while, but he'll be fine."

Beru smiled weakly. "Thank you, doctor."

The doctor pressed a button on the wall, and three aides appeared with an antigrav stretcher. As Cal and Seek laid Owen down on the stretcher, the farmer reached out to grip Cal's hand. "You're a noble person, my boy. Never forget that," he whispered hoarsely. Then the aides took him into another room.

Beru looked up at Cal. "Perhaps we lost what could have been our son, but we have gained a friend who means just as much." She stood on her toes and hugged Cal, giving him a motherly kiss on the cheek. Then she turned away and followed after her husband.

Cal stood there in silence, watching the couple disappear from view. He couldn't explain the acute ache that struck his heart so suddenly. Beru had regarded him as a surrogate son, and though Cal had a mother whom he loved beyond words, this was an unexpected pleasure and honor.

Seek tapped Cal on the shoulder. "I never knew they had a son."

Cal glanced down at his cousin. "Neither did I. Sounded like they lost him at birth."

"Why hasn't anyone ever mentioned it? You'd think they would, at least once."

Cal gazed into space. "Maybe she meant something else." He shrugged. "I don't suppose it matters. Let's go home."

The two boys returned to the speeder and left the medical station behind. Cal dropped Seek off at his house. The younger boy got out and stared at his home. "It looks like Dad is out."

Cal nodded absently. "Probably helping to look for survivors or something." He noticed a few people running down the street in haste. Cal watched them turn the corner. "Wonder where they're going?"

Seek followed Cal's gaze. "Who knows? See you around, Cal."

Cal waved, turning his speeder in the direction of his home, the direction the people were running. "Bye, Seek." He took off down the street and turned left onto his own street. When he passed the grocer's he noticed a crowd gathering outside one of the hovels.

_His_ hovel.

The speeder was barely parked when Cal leapt out of the vehicle and pushed through the crowd. The door of his home was blown away, leaving a ring of scorched metal. He shoved his way into his house, frantically calling for his parents. "Mom? Dad?" He ran through the kitchen. "Mom!"

From his parent's bedroom, he heard a familiar voice call out. "In here, Cal!" It was his uncle Drin. Cal dashed to the bedroom and found his uncle and an older man – who appeared to be a doctor – kneeling beside a moaning figure. Cal instantly saw who it was, and his heart plummeted.

"Dad!" He dropped to his father's side and saw a sight he'd never in his life imagined he would see. He had two blaster wounds in his abdomen, and another in his left leg. Cal raised a trembling hand to his father's face. "Dad…"

Eram shuddered with each breath, his pale eyes fixing themselves on Cal's face. "My son…oh, Cal. I tried to stop them." He seized up for a moment, his body rigid. The doctor and Drin gripped his hands tightly, trying to ease him through the pain. Eram continued. "They took her, Cal. I tried to stop them, but there were too many." He moaned again.

Cal saw water dropping onto his father's clothing, and he wondered briefly where it was coming from. He lifted a hand to his own face and felt the tears there. This wasn't right. He would wake up, and his father and mother would be sitting in the kitchen, chatting lightly over their lunch.

"Dad," he begged through clenched teeth. "Who took Mom?" He stared into his father's eyes – eyes that Cal had inherited. "Was it the Tuskens?" That had to be it. They had entered Anchorhead, unbeknownst to the rest of the town. She had been taken, just like Shmi Skywalker Lars. "Dad!"

Eram's face twisted in rage and sorrow. "No," he murmured. "Not the sandpeople."

"Then who was it, Dad?" Cal could feel the urgency rising to take hold of him.

Eram's eyes filled with a fire unlike any Cal had ever seen. "The Empire." He seemed to sink back into the solid arms of Drin and the doctor. It was then that Cal realized he was losing his father.

The young man leaned forward and hugged his father. "I love you, Dad. I'm going to get her back." His tears continued to fall.

Eram tried to return the embrace, but he was seized by another violent spasm. When it abated, he was almost gone. "I love you, Cal…my dear son," he whispered. His eyes were glazing over, and the last emotion Cal recognized in them was utter despair. Then he was gone.

Cal was frozen beside the body of his father. He was trying to understand what had happened, what was still happening. Nothing made sense. The Empire? He shook his head, trying to hold back another torrent of tears. No, it wasn't real. No, no, no…

His uncle rested on hand on the younger man's shoulder. "He told us what happened. Stormtroopers from the Mos Eisley garrison came and took your mother."

Cal was still shaking his head. "No," he heard his own voice say in denial.

Drin softened his voice. "Cal, she was a Rebel spy. All these years, she's been out here, willing and ready to aid the Alliance when they needed it. Your father told us so." He pointed to the corner of the room at a mess of wires and metal. "She destroyed her com device when they arrived. But they knew who she was, and they took her. Your father tried to stop them."

Suddenly it all fit together. The late night restlessness and the barely concealed loathing of the Empire. She had been communicating with the Alliance on those nights when he would find her sitting in the kitchen. And now she was gone. Only one thought echoed in his mind: he had to get her back.

Cal rose from the ground, giving his father one last sorrowful look, and then he stalked out of the room, heading back outside to his speeder. He could hear his uncle calling after him, trying to make him stop. But he wasn't going to stop, that he knew. Not until his mother was free. The crowd outside parted as Cal reemerged from the hovel. There was complete silence as the young man jumped into his speeder. Facing in the direction of Mos Eisley, Cal gunned the engine and sped away from his home.

The journey was void of all time, thought, and emotion. He was numb. He felt neither the sting of sand being swept up by his increasing speed, nor the pain of his father's death. None of it existed between Anchorhead and Mos Eisley. Until a huge spray of sand on his right caught his attention. Distracted from his goal momentarily, Cal slowed down and turned toward the unusual disruption.

When he got closer he was surprised to find what appeared to be an escape pod. The hatch opened, and a little flying droid zoomed out, beeping crazily. Cal stared at it in awe, then called to it. "Where did _you_ come from?"

The droid stopped dead in the air, it's glowing red eyes seemingly fixed on Cal in scrutiny. It whistled in alarm and then began to float away from the young man.

Cal reached out a hand. "Wait! My name's Cal Nightrunner. What are you doing here?"

The droid stopped abruptly. It flew right up to Cal's face and hovered there, as if trying to discern whether or not he was lying. The young man noticed a small, rectangular screen on one side of the droid's body, and he turned to look at it. It was a translation of the droid's beeps and whistles. Cal read it warily.

_You are a relative of Tani Nightrunner?_ the screen said.

Cal stared in amazement. "She's my mother. I'm going to Mos Eisley to find her."

_My master has instructed me that she may be trusted._

"Your master?"

_Representative Javan Madai of Alderaan. Captured by the Empire._

Cal tried to process this information. This politician must have been in contact with his mother when the Empire arrived. "Do you know how I can find my mother."

_She has probably been taken aboard the Devastator, along with my master. When they learn he does not have the data they sought, they will certainly take her away from here and interrogate her._

Cal's blood ran cold. The thought of his mother in the hands of Imperials… "So am I right in guessing that you will trust me?"

_You are Tani Nightrunner's son, so I will trust you to be in opposition to the Empire. But not beyond that._

Meaning that Cal wasn't going to be learning any secret Alliance information. He shrugged. "I just want my mother back. Can you help me?"

_Can you get me to Alderaan? I have a message from my master for Bail Organa._

Cal took a deep breath. In Mos Eisley he suspected he could find a way offplanet. He didn't relish the thought, but he had little choice. He had heard of Bail Organa, the senator from Alderaan. If a Rebel had a message for the senator, then Organa himself must be a Rebel. Maybe he knew where his mother was. "I'll try," he told the droid. "What is your number?"

_V3-T5. And thank you._

"Thank me when we get to Alderaan, Veethree." He hesitated, then took hold of the little droid in his work-worn hands. Climbing into the landspeeder, he tucked the droid into a compartment beneath the controls. "You'll be safe in there." Veethree beeped in reply, which Cal guessed was agreement. His head spinning from the new information, he took off toward Mos Eisley with a new objective. He refused to consider failure.

.


	9. Chapter Eight: Demons of Midnight

Chapter Eight: Demons of Midnight

* * *

It was around midnight when the Emperor finally called Mara and Captain Cryger into his throne room. The assassin was still bound at the wrists, walking between the officer and the girl as they approached the chamber. Mara had been responsible for keeping an eye on the assassin for the afternoon while waiting for an audience with her master. It was odd – usually he admitted her without much question, since she was his Hand. Apparently there had been some important business that required his immediate attention. So now she pressed forward, training her body to deal with the fatigue. She would not appear sleepy before the Emperor.

Mara glanced up at the assassin, aware that her insides were still twisting sharply. Throughout the afternoon that she had been forced to spend guarding the man, she had experienced this same gut-wrenching sensation. It was strongest when she was near him, but she had no idea what it meant. She had at first assumed that coming in close proximity to a strange Force user caused the feeling, but she was having second thoughts about that theory.

He hadn't spoken a word to her since arriving at the palace, although he had been irritatingly loud on the way there. She had wished to be a few years older so that she could punch him without it appearing comical. He had asked countless questions about why he was in trouble and who they were and why the Emperor wanted to see him – all of which Mara refused to answer. But upon arriving at the palace, silence fell over the assassin like a shadow.

Now they reached the bottom of the steps leading to her master's throne. The room was dark, although Mara noticed a few shafts of neon light coming from small viewports along the walls. One bright blue ray splashed the Emperor's throne, and the Emperor himself came fully into view. Mara sensed a heightening of defenses on the assassin's part, as though he was expecting to have to fight.

"Ah, Mara. You have done well," the aged man commented upon seeing them. He leaned deep into his chair. "Bring him forward."

Cryger hesitated, but then he shoved the assassin up the stairs. Mara noticed the brief flicker of malice on the man's features as he kept himself from stumbling to the ground. He trudged up the steps, glowering as the three of them stopped before reaching the throne.

The Emperor actually smiled in the thin shaft of light. "Welcome, young Rennal. As you no doubt have guessed, I have been expecting you."

The assassin twitched. "You know my name?" His question was almost an accusation.

"I know much about you, Aidan Rennal." The Emperor's yellow eyes seemed to flash. "For instance, I know that you recently eliminated Surna the Hutt, as well as a competing assassin." He leaned forward on his throne. "But there is also much I do not know. And I wish to…_explore_ the depths of your abilities."

This time it was Rennal's turn to smirk. "Listen, Highness. I don't know what you want, but you're sure as hell not going to get anything from me." He stared back at the ruler of the Empire as though they were equals. Mara flinched at the disrespect Rennal showed.

Her master stared at him with dark curiosity. "Are you sure?"

Rennal's eyes narrowed. "Absolutely."

The Emperor leaned back in his chair. "Well then. I see no need for you to stay." With a clatter the binders fell from Rennal's wrists onto the floor. Mara watched in confusion. Why was her master setting him free?

The assassin glared at the Emperor. "What kind of trick is this?"

The old man carefully dodged the question. "You want to leave, so I am allowing you the opportunity to leave."

Rennal caught Mara's gaze, and his dusky blue eyes laughed at her. He flashed his wicked smile at Cryger, then proceeded toward the door.

"Young Rennal, I must warn you," the Emperor spoke to the retreating figure. The assassin turned around slowly, his face growing dark with suspicion.

"What?"

Mara saw the sadistic gleam in her master's eyes, and she felt chilled. The Emperor stared straight at the assassin. "I understand that you once lived with a bounty hunter couple for a period of five years. You left them when they were murdered. It seems that the murderer was never discovered." He lingered on the last word, his lips curling in a triumphant and authoritative sneer.

The young Emperor's Hand saw the assassin stiffen visibly, and she felt a cold wave emanating from his presence.

Her master continued further. "I must warn you, then, that if you leave this throne room before I am through with you, then you will be charged with the murders of Wil and Rica Perat."

A harsh laugh tore from Rennal's throat. It was an attempt at masking the anger and uncertainty that Mara still sensed beneath the surface. "This is a joke, right?" he called out. "I was only ten. You couldn't possibly…" His words trailed off as he caught the look on the Emperor's face. Rennal paled considerably. "No…there's no one who would believe you. I was ten years old!"

"And you've become such a good citizen in recent years," the Emperor mocked dryly. "Tell me, boy. Who do you think the authorities will believe? You…or their Emperor?"

Rennal tried to steady his shaking hands. "They were my foster parents! I didn't kill them!" Mara sensed a new emotion roiling inside the assassin.

Pain.

"You damn monster," Rennal accused, sucking in a deep breath. His fiery features were alight with outrage and disbelief.

The Emperor wiped away his smile. "You see now that you are powerless before me. Accept it, and stay here." He rose from his throne and walked slowly toward the steps, halting at the top. Mara felt her body tense up as she watched the two men staring each other down.

Finally Rennal relinquished. He took a step away from the door. "What do you want me to do?"

The Emperor smirked.

.

* * *

.

There was a plane somewhere between dreams and reality where the unthinkable could happen and still remain true. This was where Luke had found himself more and more often in the past few months.

He had learned very little from his father concerning Force-induced visions – merely that they _did_ exist. The older man dodged the subject with suspicious fluidity, as though he'd planned all along to keep that particular area of the Force a secret from his children.

But Luke had begun to experience the unusually vivid visions, and the questions had turned from few to many. The hazy images came and went as they pleased, leaving Luke both bewildered and curious. So far, he had barely a clue as to the timeframe of the visions or the identities of the people in them. He often saw shadowy figures wielding lightsabers, and when he'd gone to comfort Leia he had seen someone preparing to deliver a fatal blow to their opponent.

Still there were other times when the visions showed people running through ice and sand and metal. There were often the strangest visions, and at the same time, the most urgent. Luke did not understand them all, and with his father gone on another mission, he couldn't even _try_ to ask him about them.

The prince lay on his backside, staring at the ceiling of his quarters from the discomfort of the cold, metal floor. It required a kind of discipline to maintain such a position. His back muscles yearned for the soft sheets and pillows of his bed, but Luke gritted his teeth and bore the pain. It was past midnight, and try as he might, he had not been able to sleep. If he couldn't rest, then he would do something with his time.

He studied the dark carvings in his ceiling, as if looking for an answer to his questions. Leia was gone – he had felt her departure not too long ago. He could still feel her, but the sensation was noticeably dimmed. If anything happened to her though, he would feel it. He was sure of it.

Father had also left. His strong presence was removed to the heavens, to the distant stars that Luke could only imagine. Off on another adventure, or at least a mission that took him far beyond the confines of the palace. Whether his father enjoyed these missions or not, Luke envied him his freedom.

_He is not free_, the boy reminded himself. He slid his hands up behind his head and sighed deeply. Free or not, his father was away from Imperial Center for the time being. More than could be said for Luke. He was trapped here with the Emperor.

Luke smirked in the dim light. Mara was here too, which wasn't all that bad. She was annoyingly dedicated and rigid at times, but he still considered her somewhat of a friend. Perhaps she was more Leia's friend than his, but it didn't matter. Leia was gone now.

Thinking of his twin sister, even briefly, allowed his dark mood to descend upon him once again. Even though he knew she could take care of herself, he still feared for her safety. What would the Emperor do once he realized where she was planning on going? Luke couldn't help the tremor of dread that coursed through his body. He could hardly imagine the possibilities.

If only he could do something. Something to help Leia, something to bring into balance the scale of good and evil that seemed to so readily favor Palpatine and his Empire. Such thoughts were treasonous, but Luke did not care. Someday he sensed things would be different. His father and Leia would _make_ things different. If only he could help them.

The floor was still cold…still hard. He rolled over onto his stomach and placed his chin on his folded arms. His eyes grew weary, and without much conscious thought, he felt his eyelids lower.

_Something touched his bare skin, and he leapt with shock. It was like fire and water mixed together. Burning and freezing…a strange combination. Opening his eyes, he noted its white color and realized that it was snow._

_He pulled his heavy robes tighter around him, trying to insolate himself. There were shouts and screams, and a noisy vehicle flew by overhead. Luke looked up as the battered ship passed, and through the snow flurry he saw a figure onboard waving what appeared to be a lightsaber. The engines muffled the figure's voice, and Luke tried using the Force to amplify his own hearing._

_"Hold on, we're almost there!"_

_Out of nowhere a laser blast struck the right side of the ship, jarring it's occupants. A smaller figure fell out._

_"Zavra, no!" The wave of anger that burst from the ship was powerful and vaguely familiar. "We can't leave him!"_

_Another voice interrupted. "We cannot go back! The others are waiting!"_

_"But Master Gallia—"_

_"Obi-Wan is waiting! We cannot linger!"_

_The voices ceased, and the ship sped off, lasers trying desperately to bring it down. Luke stared at the spot where the small figure had fallen. He approached it carefully, wondering if the impact had killed it._

_He kneeled beside the figure and rolled it over. A young human male stared back at him with vacant brown eyes. Luke squeezed his eyes shut at the image, then opened them again, searching for a clue as to the identity of the man. He lifted part of his cloak aside and stared at the weapon hanging from the man's belt._

_A lightsaber._

_He was a Jedi. Of this Luke was certain, though he knew not how. The Jedi had been fleeing some battle and this poor man had died. But there were no Jedi anymore. What battle could this be?_

_An explosion showered snow and ice upon the dead Jedi…_

Luke jolted upright, his ears ringing, his skin still cold from the kiss of snow. He looked about his room, wondering what had just happened.

_Rhen Var…_

"What?" he called out to no one.

_Rhen Var…_

Luke shook his head. He didn't know what any of it meant. A Jedi had died, and he'd seen it. He knew nothing else.

Something tugged at his thoughts, urging him to pay attention. Rhen Var…what was that? What did it mean? The prince racked his brain, searching for some shred of memory that might make everything clear. Was it someone's name? A city perhaps?

Or a planet.

The thought sat heavily upon his mind. It seemed _right_. Rhen Var was a planet, but there was something about the planet. Something. He didn't know if it was important or if it was just a clue to something bigger, something grander. Something more complicated.

Luke had always been fascinated by history, even though much of it was now shrouded in mystery, thanks to the Emperor. He made a mental note to pay a visit to his father's private quarters sometime in the near future. What he was looking for would most likely be locked away in a secure record. But Luke was not the son of a Sith Lord for nothing. He would find a way to solve the mystery of his visions, with or without anyone's help.

A resounding knock came from the direction of the main door. Luke hesitated, not feeling in the mood for company. Reluctantly he nudged the keypad with the Force, and the door slid open. On the other side was Mara Jade.

"What—"

"She's gone, isn't she?" Mara stared at him with hard eyes.

"Who?" Luke asked, attempting to hide his sister's whereabouts in the deepest corners of his mind.

Mara folded her arms across her chest. "You know very well who I mean, Highness." Her voice dripped with impatience. "Leia!"

Luke rubbed his forearms – which still seemed cold – and with effort he dragged himself to a standing position. "I can't tell you."

The girl's stony countenance seemed to falter. "She's left the capital, hasn't she?"

The prince refused to answer. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, the weight of his vision settling on his mind; then he went and sat wearily on his bed. "I suppose you'll tell your master."

Unexpectedly, Mara strode over and sat beside Luke. "He'll figure it out fairly quickly on his own, I assure you," she stated simply. Luke caught a sparkle of mischief in her green eyes as she continued. "But he's a bit preoccupied right now, and I don't suppose he'll notice it right away if he isn't told." She cocked her head sideways and allowed a tiny grin to play across her features, though Luke sensed a darker emotion underneath. "I really shouldn't disturb him with this news."

Luke gazed at her for several seconds, realizing the levels of loyalty and personality he had never before noticed in her. She wasn't a completely mindless trainee like he'd once assumed – she was only a _partially_ mindless trainee. Luke smiled at her with gratitude. Partially lost was not completely lost. Maybe there was a chance for her after all.

"What?" Mara asked as Luke continued to stare.

"You're not as young as I thought you were, even if you are sixteen."

"Seventeen."

"Huh?" Luke blinked. He could have sworn…

"It's past midnight, and today is my birthday." She shrugged. "Roughly."

Luke laughed, surprised that he could do so without Leia around. "So," he inquired, "what have you been up to all day? My sparring partner was inexplicably absent this afternoon."

A door seemed to suddenly slam shut between them. Luke felt a mental blast of wind from the force of the defensive reaction. Mara looked away from him. "I'm not allowed to say," she muttered.

The easy confidence that had briefly sprung up between them died away as Luke stared at her in confusion. "The Emperor wishes it?"

"Yes."

Luke wasn't sure of what to do next. He hesitated before setting a tentative hand on her shoulder. She shied away, and Luke pulled back his hand. "Sorry," he mumbled. Mara quietly stood up and gazed into empty space. Luke remained seated. "Mara?"

"I don't think I should discuss it."

"Why not? Just because the Emperor—"

"I don't know!" The girl whirled on him in fury. "I don't understand it! I don't know what he wants…I don't know anything!"

Luke leaned back as if to brace himself from the shockwave of emotion. "I'm sure the Emperor—"

"It's not just him!" Her young face screwed up in pain, and for a moment Luke thought she would burst into tears. The seconds ticked by, and Mara held her tears in check. Without another word, she jammed her fingers into the keypad and ran out the open door.

Luke stared after her retreating figure feeling even more confused. He placed a palm on his forehead and sighed. He couldn't understand himself, and he couldn't understand anyone else. Some prince he was. He let himself fall backward onto his pillows. But still he could not sleep.

.

* * *

.

Emperor Palpatine stood once again at the viewport overlooking the city. It was late, and yet he was not tired. There was something about the still, deathlike hours between midnight and morning that made him feel at home. And now that he had ensnared young Aidan Rennal, he was feeling most pleased with himself.

The man had been easier to crack than Palpatine had thought he would be, but nevertheless there were levels of untapped talent within the young assassin. Given time, Palpatine was confident that he could draw out these strengths and use them for his own purposes. The fact that Rennal was already a fiery, violent person by nature would help the process along. The obvious hatred that he had shown toward his captors in the throne room had sent shivers of ecstasy up the Emperor's gnarled spine. Aidan Rennal was certainly the man he'd seen in his meditations.

For that had been the entire purpose in bringing the lowly assassin to the Imperial Palace. Over the past few months, the Emperor had begun to see faces in his meditations, and one stood out clearer than the rest. He was a young man with red hair and a devilish demeanor who showed no mercy and shone with Force potential. Ever since, the Emperor had kept an eye out for anyone resembling this person from his visions.

There was some important reason for these visions. They had come at a time when the Emperor had again been mulling over the problem of his apprentice's children, who continued to grow stronger each day. Now that he had found Rennal, he felt certain that the purpose of their meeting was a means to eventually destroying the prince and princess. Rennal was nowhere near as powerful as either of the twins – and probably never would be – but Palpatine sensed that his fury would lend itself to his training, and by fully embracing the dark side the assassin would be able to defeat the twins.

And of course, Rennal would have help from young Mara Jade.

The Emperor smirked darkly. He sensed that his soon-to-be-Hand was none too pleased with the arrival of the assassin, but she would get over it soon. If she did not, he would have to be a bit more forceful. Mara and Aidan would make an excellent team in combat, and Palpatine was anxious to see how the two would perform. Together, they would have the power to defeat Vader's brats.

Laughing quietly as he gazed out across the planet, the Emperor realized with dark pleasure how much he would enjoy training this ruthless young assassin.

.

* * *

_._

_Snow whipped about his face, stinging his eyes and his skin. He held his activated saber in one hand, the cerulean blade the only sliver of color in this world encased in white. He looked down at the short young man next to him, who was watching his breath freeze in the air. He turned away, letting his gaze skim across the other faces in the transport. They all wore the same expressions, one that he assumed he shared. On a forsaken planet such as this, it was not hard to believe that they would always look this grim, even when the war ended._

_If the war ever did end._

_"Anakin?" the shorter man half shouted, half gasped over the roar of the engine as he leaned closer. "Can you feel the others? Your master?"_

_He did feel something familiar, although very faint. "Yes, we're close." As he spoke, a laser blast flew past the transport and crashed into a nearby canyon wall, sending a cascade of snow into the air._

_"We've got incoming!" the pilot yelled back to the passengers._

_The shorter man steadied himself against the open hatch. "Here they come!"_

_He felt the earlier presence grow stronger, and through the snow he saw the lights of the platform that they were heading to. "Hold on, we're almost there!" He waved his lightsaber, wondering if anyone on the platform would see it._

_Suddenly another laser blast crashed into the right side of the ship, jarring its occupants violently. Twisting his head, he saw his shorter companion flailing wildly in the air. The engine and the wind combined to nearly drown out the terrible cry that ripped from his throat._

_"Zavra, no!"_

_He tried to reach out for his friend, but all he could catch was snow…_

.

* * *

.

Vader felt a jolt go up his arm as he smashed into the cold floor. He winced slightly at the pain shooting through his right elbow and forearm, but he forced himself to push it aside. His bionic arm was durable if anything. Shaking his head, Vader brought himself to a seated position on the floor and clasped his head with both hands. He hadn't been expecting _that_ memory to enter his dreams after so long. Not in all the time since Padmé's death had he dreamt of any of the battles of his youth. It seemed strange that he should begin to dream about them now.

Vader sighed, rubbing his bleary eyes. Maybe it had been triggered by the battle his ship had just engaged in with the Rebel spies. Yes, that was probably it. He was experiencing some kind of battle fatigue.

He wondered why he did not pick himself up off of the floor. His bed was much more comfortable, but for some reason he could not bring himself to get up. It was as though his body was frozen in place; or rather his will to move was frozen. He realized with some hesitancy that he _wanted_ to stay on the cold metal surface. Maybe it was discipline that kept him there. Maybe it was penitence.

.


	10. Chapter Nine: Destination Alderaan

Chapter Nine: Destination Alderaan

* * *

Aari shifted in her seat, trying to retain feeling in her right leg, which was starting to go numb. She'd been sitting in the cantina since dawn, and now it was mid-afternoon. When was that lousy, no-good traitor going to show up? Aari sighed and removed one hand from the blaster lying on the table. She rubbed her leg, wincing at the uncomfortable tingling sensation that indicated she was regaining feeling.

The sound of someone new entering the cantina caught her attention, and her own discomfort was forgotten. She watched the entrance with renewed purpose, feeling in her gut that he had finally arrived.

The male human that walked down the steps and spoke easily with the bartender was facing away from Aari, but she would have recognized his swagger – his irritatingly calm sense of self – anywhere. It was Vic.

He spotted her after a few moments and made his way over to her table. As he came closer, Aari noticed the humor in his gray eyes. It infuriated her that he could possibly find amusement in this situation. Surely he should be confused and startled to find her here, alive.

"Hello again, beautiful," Vic greeted Aari as he began to lean in close to her.

"Don't you dare," she hissed, hazel eyes flashing. Vic halted, unsure of whether to sit down or remain standing.

"What? What did I do?" he asked innocently. He ran a hand through his dark hair, laughing at some obscure joke. "You're a real piece of work—"

"Shut up! Don't you dare laugh at me," Aari growled, picking up the blaster. "How can you even talk to me after what you did?"

Vic's body went rigid as he stared in disbelief at the blaster that was now trained on him. "Aari," he whispered. "Why—"

"Just sit down," she ordered, waving the blaster. The middleman complied, his eyes clouding with bewilderment. How could he go on pretending like that? "I should shoot you right now."

"What are you talking about?" Vic demanded.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. You betrayed me! You tipped me off to the Empire," Aari ranted, feeling her voice crack slightly. "You did nothing but lie to me from the beginning."

Vic leaned forward across the table, wary of the blaster. "Aari, that's not true. I—"

"Stop it! You're lying right now!" She would not cry, even though that was what she felt like doing. She felt like crying and shooting him at the same time.

"Would you just let me—"

"No! I don't want to hear it anymore!" Aari glared at him, holding back the tears. She was too good to cry in front of a traitor. "I don't want to listen to your lies—"

She was cut off abruptly as Vic lunged forward and snatched the blaster up before she could react. Aari punched him in the jaw, hoping that the impact would force him to release the weapon. Vic stumbled backward but managed to hold onto the gun. With his free hand he grabbed one of her shoulders and forced her back into her seat. Pointing the blaster at her, he took in a shuddering breath.

"Stars, Aari, that's one hell of a punch you've got there." He rubbed his jaw gingerly, wincing at the pain. She glowered up at him as he spoke. "Now just listen to me. I have no idea what is going on here. What got you so riled up?"

"You sending the Imperials after me at Rodia, that's what!" Aari exclaimed.

Vic frowned. "You were jumped at Rodia?" He looked at Aari as if trying to figure out what to say. "It wasn't me, Aari, I swear."

"How can I believe you?" She folded her arms across her chest, daring him to come up with an answer.

Vic hesitated for a second, looking at the blaster in his hands. With one fluid motion, he extended his arm, offering the weapon to her. "Take it."

Aari watched him with suspicion. Why was he giving her the blaster? She reached out and took it from him.

"Now do you trust me?"

Aari glanced up at him reluctantly. "If it wasn't you, then who was it?" she murmured hesitantly.

"I don't know," Vic sighed wearily. "But I swear it wasn't me."

Aari didn't know what to think. She really wanted to believe what Vic was saying, but all her logic and instincts told her not to trust him. "I can't…" She trailed off as a commotion broke out near the bar.

"Hey! No droids allowed! Take it outside, kid."

Aari and Vic spun around to see what was going on. A tall young man was clutching a small droid protectively, refusing to let go as the bartender pointed toward the exit. His face had a wild look about it, almost frantic and frightening in its intensity. Aari stood up.

"What are you doing?" Vic whispered.

Aari avoided answering the question. "I'll be right back." She pushed her way toward the bar. "Hey you!" The tall kid turned toward her. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you to bring that droid."

The bartender looked back and forth between Aari and the young man. "Listen, miss. The policy is no droids allowed. You'll have to take your business outside."

Aari brought the blaster up to her side, just high enough for the bartender to notice it. "I don't think you want to tell me where to take my business, _sir_." She glanced over at the young man. "Let's go." His pale blue eyes seemed to pierce right into her heart, discerning her intentions. He nodded and followed her back to the table where Vic was waiting.

When they sat down, the young man set the droid on the table. "Thank you," he murmured softly, as if afraid to speak too loud in the cantina.

"Don't mention it," Aari replied, extending her hand to him. "The name's Aari Zalash."

The young man shook her hand firmly. "Cal Nightrunner. I'm looking for passage to Alderaan. You wouldn't happen to be a pilot?"

Aari felt a glimmer of something mischievous and adventurous spark inside of her. "Actually I am," she answered, noticing the disapproval on Vic's face. The expression only fueled her desire to spite him. "Alderaan?"

"Yes."

"I hate to tell you that it will cost a little to get you there."

"It's not a problem. How much?"

Aari didn't want to be too demanding. "Five thousand," she offered.

Cal nodded slowly. "You'll get it." Vic shifted in his seat, grunting something unintelligible. The boy glanced at him. "I give you my word."

Aari smiled despite herself. "That's good enough for me." She could almost feel Vic's disbelief at her answer.

Vic leaned toward her. "You trust him, but you don't trust me?" he whispered.

Aari smiled again. "That's right. Get used to it."

Cal cleared his throat. "Uh, I think there's something I should tell you." Aari and Vic looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Well, there might be an Imperial problem."

Aari gave Vic a meaningful glance. "We seem to be having those frequently these days. What's the problem?"

"To put it plainly…they're going to be after him." He pointed at the droid resting silently on the table. "I have to get him to Alderaan. To the senator."

Aari swallowed uneasily. "Well…that certainly is a problem. You won't hate me terribly if I raise the fee, will you? This sounds like a ten thousand credit job."

Cal looked unsure for a moment. He gazed at the little droid. "You'll get it."

"All right," Aari breathed with some hesitation. "Deal?"

"Deal."

"Meet us at docking bay ninety-four in half an hour."

"Ninety-four," Cal replied quietly, picking up the droid. "I'll be there." Without further delay, the boy hurried out of the cantina.

Vic looked over at Aari after Cal had gone. "What did you mean by 'us,' Aari?"

Aari shot him a warning glance. "You think I'm going to let you go free and cause more trouble for me? Forget it. You're coming with me. Now let's go and get the _Blade_ ready." She placed her blaster in its holster and stood up from the table. In her rush to get to the docking bay, she missed the grin that flashed across Vic's face.

.

* * *

.

"Hey, kid. You hungry—"

Han Solo stopped in his tracks as the bright blue laser sword flashed dangerously close to his head. He ducked out of instinct, but a light chuckle from the girl indicated that she knew full well what she was doing. She wasn't going to decapitate him. Not unless she was insane.

Settling into a seat by one of the _Falcon's_ nav consoles, Han scanned the screen to make sure everything was running smoothly. They would be arriving at Alderaan shortly, if everything went as planned. The distance between Imp Center and Alderaan was not so great when compared to some of the trips he'd taken, and Han was currently thankful for that. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to put up with Leia.

Han glanced over at her as she continued to practice with that lightsaber thing. He didn't claim to know a whole lot about galactic affairs, but he did recognize the weapon of a Jedi when he saw one. And the Jedi were supposed to be dead. Which meant that Leia was either on the run from the Empire – doubtful for one so rich who obviously lived on Imperial Center – or she was somehow linked to the only man living who possessed that kind of weapon: Darth Vader.

He didn't really want to believe that he was carrying a high-ranking Imperial on board his ship, but the evidence was overwhelming. Leia was a pretty young woman with lots of money and enough attitude to more than match her wealth. Han knew that there was some kind of royal family or something on Imperial Center. On the fourteenth Empire Day, Emperor Palpatine had introduced Prince Shade and Princess Ember via live HoloNet. That day the royal children, so called because of their status, had been named the Emperor's heirs. Han remembered thinking it strange that the prince and princess had kept their faces hidden under their hoods. Maybe they were deformed, like Palpatine. Either way, they preferred to elude the spotlight. Leia was probably a bodyguard or close companion of the princess. That would explain the lightsaber, as well as her wealth. Why she was eager to get to Alderaan was anyone's guess. Han only hoped that once he got her there he would be able to wash his hands of the whole affair and pretend he'd never encountered her.

From his seat at the round game table, Chewie growled softly at Han, gesturing toward the girl.

Han nodded his head. "Tell me about it," he mumbled.

Leia deactivated the saber and removed the helmet that had obstructed her view. She hooked the saber on her belt and looked at Han with her curious brown eyes. "What did he say?"

Han exchanged an amused glance with his Wookiee companion. "You don't want to know," he snorted. He held out a piece of fruit from the tray he'd brought in. "Want some juza fruit?"

Leia eyed the soft pink fruit suspiciously. "Juza? Never heard of it."

"Have you ever been to Gan-juzen?" Han questioned.

"No."

"That's why you've never heard of it." He handed her the fruit and bit into a piece of his own. "It's really good, if I do say so myself."

"Sure," Leia replied, taking a timid bite out of the juza. She held it in her mouth for a moment and then swallowed. "Not bad." She shoved the rest of the fruit into her mouth. Han gave her a humored look, and Leia blushed slightly. "I was really hungry. Thanks."

"No problem." Han turned back to the console, checking the ship's vitals. Leia put the helmet back on her head, and her saber snapped to life. Han watched her deflect numerous static charges. Chewie woofed softly. Han shook his head. "It's just luck," he informed his companion.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few points as Leia once again removed her helmet. "Luck?" she asked incredulously. The hum of the lightsaber filled in the silence between her words. "There's no such thing as luck. Have you even _heard_ of the Force?"

Han rolled his eyes. "Kid, I've flown from one side of the galaxy to the other, and I've seen a lot of strange stuff. But I've never seen _anything_ to make me believe that there's one all-powerful Force controlling _everything_." He looked to Chewie for support. "There's no mystical energy field that controls _my_ destiny. It's just a lot of simple tricks and nonsense."

Leia's eyes narrowed indignantly. "You didn't look so confident when I nearly took your head off with this saber."

"That didn't have anything to do with any Force. You just have bad aim," Han retorted, ignoring the outraged look on Leia's face. "Besides, hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid." He reached for another piece of juza fruit, but it flew off of the tray and into Leia's outstretched hand.

"Hokey religions? I'll have to remember that one, Captain Solo." Munching on the fruit, Leia deactivated her saber and exited the room.

From his corner, Chewie rumbled a question.

Han glanced over at him before returning his attention to the nav console. "I'm trying not to, pal."

.

* * *

.

The speeder salesman – or alien, Cal supposed – grunted something unintelligible under his breath as he considered Cal's proposal. "Three thousand credits is a bit pricey, kid," he spoke in his halting, staccato dialect. "Make it two thousand and you've got a deal."

Cal shook his head. "It's been well-kept. Look, I just had a new antigrav system installed a few weeks ago," he argued, pointing at the speeder.

The alien waved his hands in the air. "Do you want to sell it or not? I've got a whole stock of the new XP-36's that just came in. Trust me, two thousand is the best offer you'll get anywhere for this old thing."

Sighing audibly, Cal beckoned the dealer to give him the credits. Tucking them into his pocket, he grabbed Veethree and headed toward the nearby hangar bay.

Veethree beeped rapidly, and Cal looked down at the translation screen. _We are being followed._

Cal resisted the urge to look behind him. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

_Yes. But he will not attack._

"No, the stormtroopers will," Cal retorted.

_Have I offended you?_

The question made him laugh despite his concern. "Sorry. I'm just anxious to get off of this planet before the Empire rains down on us." Not that he had ever seen any rain on the forsaken desert world.

The former farm hand and the droid entered the hangar bay as discreetly as possible and found Aari Zalash fiddling with the hull of the ship. She tightened something back on near the main hatch and wiped her brow. "Finally," she muttered. "Damn Imps." She twisted around as Cal came closer to the ship. "Oh good, you're here."

Cal whistled as his eyes ran over the curiously shaped Firespray-31. "Nice ship," he commented brightly.

"Thanks," the young pilot replied. She seemed to notice the urgency under Cal's congenial tone. "Maybe we'd better get going."

"Yeah." Cal tightened his grip on the little droid in his arms and then ascended the ramp. The sound of scuffling feet distracted him, and he turned around to see what the commotion was.

"Stop that ship! Blast—" The muffled voice died off as laser blasts erupted throughout the hangar.

Aari already had her blaster drawn and was picking off stormtroopers as she ran up the ramp. "Vic, get us out of here!" She spotted Cal staring in disbelief at the troopers. "Come on, kid!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him aboard as the hatch door slid closed.

Cal raced up to the cockpit with Aari, where Vic Phancil was already at the controls. The ship lifted into the air and began to spin around until the entire craft was upright. Without hesitation, Aari slipped into the pilot's seat and hit the thrusters. Cal grabbed the back of Vic's chair as the entire ship rocketed out of the hangar. Veethree tumbled out of Cal's grip and flew backward out of the cockpit, beeping insanely.

"Hold on!" Aari shouted as the droid crashed into something behind them. Cal hugged himself against the back of the chair, and he barely even noticed Vic giving him a strangely amused look.

The young Tatooinian watched in awe as the ship escaped his homeworld's atmosphere and journeyed into the black depths of space. He knew his mouth must be hanging open in amazement, but he didn't care. It was the most breathtaking thing he could imagine.

"We've got trouble," Vic informed, pulling up the coordinates for Alderaan on the nav computer.

"What is it?" Cal asked, feeling the danger of the situation begin to hit him.

"Two Imperial cruisers. They've been waiting for us," Aari returned quickly. "We'll be safe once we make the jump."

"The jump to hyperspace?" Cal felt his eyes widen.

"That's the one, kid." Aari flipped a switch and looked over at Vic. "You have the coordinates yet?"

"It's setting up," Vic replied, his fingers flying over the panel.

"Well hurry up already!"

"I'm trying!" Sweat began to bead on the man's forehead as he raced to find the quickest route. "There! Punch it!"

Aari pulled a lever back, and Cal watched in astonishment as the tiny pinpricks against the black of space elongated and became thick white starlines. Both Aari and Vic sighed in relief.

Cal sat down on the floor behind the cockpit seats and leaned against the wall. "Wow," he whispered. An urgent beeping caught his attention, and remembering the droid, he got up and headed for the corridor. "Veethree?" Twin red orbs lit up in front of him. "There you are." He reached out, picked the little droid up off of the floor, and carried him back into the cockpit.

Aari swiveled around in her seat and stared at the farm hand. "You didn't say anything about Imperial Star Destroyers, kid."

Cal shook his head. "I didn't know they'd send destroyers after him. He's just a tiny little droid. He's carrying a message for a Rebel. I didn't think they'd send two warships after him."

"Calm down, kid," Vic said as soothingly as possible. "We're not mad. We just want to know what we're up against."

Aari nodded. "Right. So maybe we'd better start by finding out what all this message entails."

All three of the humans stared down at Veethree. The droid seemed to squirm uncomfortably. _I am not authorized to give this message to anyone but Bail Organa or an identifiable member of the Rebellion._

"Veethree, if you don't play the message, they might not take us to Alderaan at all. Please do it," Cal urged. The pleading in his voice was not lost on the droid, who seemed to respond to emotion as well as logic.

_Very well._ A stream of blue light shone from a scope on the droid's body, and at the other end was a hologram of a young man in the white robes of an Alderaanian diplomat. The man stood with his arms folded across his chest. His face was grim, yet determined.

_"There is little time left for me. Inside this droid's memory system is information vital to the survival of the Rebel Alliance. I regret that I am not able to present it in person, but my ship has been attacked and captured by the Empire."_

The man's eyes focused on something outside the field of the hologram, and he smiled bitterly.

_"They will be coming for me very shortly. If this message reaches a Rebel, I urge you to take this to my cousin, Bail Organa of Alderaan. He will know how to retrieve the data."_

Here the man's voice began to crack, revealing a layer of emotion.

_"Bail, if you hear this, I just want to say how much I am grateful for everything you have taught me. I love you very much, Cousin, and I will miss you. I'll die before I reveal anything to the Empire."_

The sound of an explosion could be heard in the background. The man leaned closer to the recording device.

_"Tell my father that I love him and that I'm sorry I didn't say it more often."_

The message disappeared in static and Veethree shut of the projector. The three humans sat in silence, soaking in the implications of the message. Cal felt colder than he had before, wondering what fate had befallen this man and whether a similar fate awaited his mother.

_I love you, Mom. I'm coming._

.


	11. Chapter Ten: Prisoners

Chapter Ten: Prisoners

* * *

The girl led him to a cell deep in the bowels of the palace, so deep that it was a wonder they didn't wind up in the sewers. This part of the immense building was obviously where the Emperor kept those prisoners he wanted to be kept alive, but only just. Aidan suppressed a shudder. The Emperor didn't want him dead. Not yet.

The turbolift had descended for a long time. Too long, in the assassin's opinion. After stopping, the girl had led him down a sterile white hallway to a wall of stone. Typing in the correct password, she watched impassively as the stone gave way and slid aside, revealing a dark stairway. Aidan had followed her down the stairs, the light from the white corridor fading quickly. After many silent minutes, they reached their destination. Aidan felt the faint presences of a few beings behind the thick metal prison doors. One of the doors flew open, as if by magic. The girl had pointed at it.

Now Aidan strode into his new prison with as much confidence as he could exude, but he realized such adult displays of superiority were wasted on Mara Jade. She merely peered back at him with those aloof green eyes. Aidan would have sighed if he weren't so conscious of the fact that this teenage girl was scrutinizing his every action. She would probably report back to the Emperor, telling every little thing that he had done. He certainly didn't want that.

To be honest, he wanted to get as far away from Imperial Center as he could. It almost frightened him to think of his former ignorance. He'd thought the Emperor to be a figurehead, a puppet for a corrupt bureaucracy. It had never before occurred to him that the galaxy was the puppet show and Palpatine was pulling the strings.

Aidan had begun to realize the truth back in the throne room when the Emperor had threatened to charge him with the murder of his foster parents. Such a threat would not have been unusual for a petty politician, but the expression on Palpatine's face suggested that he was something different altogether. Aidan had recognized that look. It was the same one he saw reflected in his own victims' eyes just before he killed them. It was his own ruthless indifference, magnified tenfold in the Emperor's face.

The Jade girl cleared her throat loudly. Aidan turned to face her. She pointed at a metal chair in the corner. "Sit," she commanded.

Aidan wondered how she would react if he refused. He decided against it. She looked tired, and she was probably the type of person who got violent when they were deprived of sleep. His thoughts returned to the brief time he'd had alone with the Emperor. Mara Jade and the idiot army captain had been ordered to leave for a while, and Aidan had been left in the throne room with the most powerful man in the galaxy.

"_What do you want me to do?"_

_The Emperor smirked, dipping his head forward so that his eyes disappeared in shadow. "Mara, Cryger, leave us."_

_Aidan stood completely still, trying to ignore his queasy stomach. He still didn't know what was causing it, and he didn't care. Assassins did not get sick. They just did not._

_When they were alone, the Emperor spoke. "My young assassin," he purred with false gentleness, "I have been looking forward to this meeting."_

_Aidan glared up at him with all the heat his dusky blue eyes could produce, thinking of a thousand equally brutal ways to kill the Emperor._

_Palpatine smiled triumphantly. "Good! I can _feel _your anger."_

_Aidan nearly staggered. He'd done nothing out of the ordinary, and yet it had pleased the old man. He had definitely not meant to do that. He gritted his teeth. "Just tell me what the hell you want with me!" he shouted. As he stood there seething in fury and confusion, he became aware that his captors had not taken his vibroblade from him. _

_Palpatine laughed again, seemingly unaware of Aidan's discovery. "All in time," he replied, peering down at the assassin from underneath his black cowl. _

_He couldn't stand it. If he couldn't get a straight answer, he would take matters into his own hands. "I'm not playing your game, Highness." With deadly accuracy, Aidan whipped out his vibroblade and threw it right at the Emperor's heart._

_What shocked Aidan the most was not the fact that he had missed the target, but the fact that the blade had halted dead in the air, turned around, and was now pressing against his own throat as if held by some invisible hand. All traces of pleasure and arrogance vanished from the Emperor's wrinkled visage, replaced by a black mask of hatred. The blade hummed closer to Aidan's throat. _

"_The rules here are simple, boy," Palpatine hissed. "You will serve me, or you will die."_

_Aidan was used to being issued ultimatums and even more used to rejecting them completely. Now for the first time in many long years, he found himself accepting another man's terms. He had to live. "Your will is my will, Highness," he whispered hoarsely. The vibroblade clattered to the floor._

"_I trust you will not be so foolish in the future, my young apprentice," the Emperor murmured darkly._

_No. Never again._

Aidan had then been escorted outside of the throne room to await Mara Jade's return. Both of his hands were bound once again, a sign of his spiritual bondage as well as his physical bondage. The Emperor had said he would deal with him sometime the next day. Checking his chrono, Aidan had seen that it was still a few hours before dawn. When the girl had returned, her green eyes had been bright with what Aidan thought might be unshed tears, but the very idea was ridiculous, and he shrugged it off.

Now he sat in the chair under the careful guard of Mara Jade, staring at the ground and wondering how he had gotten himself into this mess.

.

* * *

.

There were many things that irritated Mara, and being used as a guard for Force-sensitive beings was definitely high on the list. She was exhausted – though she wouldn't dare mention it to her master – and to be honest, she was a little afraid of this assassin-turned-prisoner. In the short period that she had been acquainted with him, she had seen him go through a series of facial expressions that she often saw on her own master's face. He had levels of murderous rage and cold efficiency that she did not yet possess. Mara wondered if this man was representative of the kind of Hand the Emperor wanted her to become. She shuddered inwardly at the thought. No, she did not need a violent disposition to become a lethal servant.

Mara tried desperately not to rock back and forth on her heels. The other guards would be here soon, and she would finally be able to go to her own quarters. She hoped her master was right in assuming that a dozen elite stormtroopers would be able to subdue Rennal should he somehow break out of his cell. The multiple locking mechanisms were complicated, and Mara believed that the assassin might not have a good enough grasp on the Force to unlock his door.

For now, Rennal was sitting in his assigned chair, still and silent. He sat on the edge of the seat with his back perfectly straight, perfectly disciplined. This was a man who was used to waiting sleepless through the long hours of the night for his victims to make themselves vulnerable. Mara believed that he would sit there forever, if he had to, staring at her through his hazy blue eyes. She blinked twice.

Rennal surprised her when he bent slightly at the waist, a muscle in his cheek twitching in pain. Mara remembered her own stomach, and wondered if maybe they both needed some food.

"Are you hungry?" she asked him sternly. He straightened up and stared back with equal solemnity.

"Yes." The word slipped quietly from his mouth almost quicker than Mara could see.

"Do you want something to eat?" she continued, trying to hide the curiosity rising in her. He didn't sound as eager to lash out as he had earlier.

"No." He shifted slightly in his seat, staring down at his bound hands.

For some reason his silence bothered her almost as much as being forced to guard him. "You're awfully quiet. What happened to the quick-witted remarks you were spitting out before you got here?"

The man brought his eyes up to meet hers. Her stomach coiled apprehensively. He stared at her for a moment. "Would you be so eager to talk if you'd been forced to do something you didn't want to do?" His voice was hard and straight-forward. Mara saw in his eyes a kind of knowledge and experience that she knew she lacked. It made her realize how young she really was, and she looked away.

"Why does he want me?"

Mara didn't bother making eye contact this time. Instead she gazed at the thick steel cell door, remembering the conversation she'd had with Luke a little while ago. Her eyes began to sting, and she forced herself to remain in the present. "I don't know," she replied.

"Oh, come on, Emperor's Hand. You must know."

She whirled on him, green eyes flashing. "Look," she growled, "Emperor's Hand does _not_ mean I am all-knowing. And don't call me that. You say it like a curse."

There was a slightly startled pause. "Well then what _should _I call you, kid?" He eyed her warily, waiting for another outburst.

It did not come. "Mara Jade," she answered proudly. "As long as you don't act like it's a burden to say it."

A dark grin flashed across his face. "You've got guts, Jade, I'll give you that. You already know who I am, no thanks to your master."

"He's your master too, or so I've heard."

The grin disappeared. Rennal looked back down at his binders. "How could I forget?" he murmured bitterly.

Mara's eyebrows narrowed. "It's not as terrible as you imagine it to be."

"No, it's much worse."

"How would you know anything about it?" Mara retorted.

Rennal laughed harshly and glared up at her. "You've never killed anyone, have you? No, don't say a word, I already know the answer. It's written all over your face." The assassin stood up from his chair and walked in a circle around Mara, as if examining her. "Yep, you're as white as snow."

"What are you talking about?" Mara hissed, watching him move.

Rennal stepped a little closer. "It's hard to explain really. All I can say is that when you've killed someone – when you've murdered them and watched the life go out of them – you can see it in others. It's like an invisible blood stain that we can't get rid of and can't hide from the sight of our fellow killers. You're no killer yet, Mara Jade. But your master is."

The man took a few more steps until he and Mara were separated by only a few feet. She wondered if she'd have time to react should he decide to attack her. "And that scares you?" she returned.

"No, not just that. I've slain many who have wanted my head," Rennal murmured. "He's something different altogether, and you, Mara Jade, can't even see it. Your master's stain is so red, so irremovable, that it is in his very soul. I kill, and I feel no remorse. I feel nothing." Rennal looked around, as if searching for words. "The Emperor kills, and he feels both nothing and _everything_. He cares for no one, and his entire life force is dependent upon murder and destruction and control. Death gives him unmatched pleasure." The assassin's face contorted in disgust. "Being in his presence is like being stabbed by a thousand knives and still not dying. I'm a simple man; I can't really describe it beyond that."

"And you got all that just from looking at him?"

The assassin nodded.

Mara shook her head in disbelief. "You're crazier than I thought."

Rennal growled and stalked back to his seat. "Fine, I'm crazy. You're his slave, I'm his slave. What difference does it make?"

Mara heard the beeping of her comlink. "Jade," she answered.

"My lady, this is Commander Eckhart, heading up the stormtrooper guard His Highness requested."

Mara sighed with relief. "Very good, commander. Open the door."

The door slid open, and on the other side Mara saw a dozen white-armored troopers. she glanced back at Rennal. "I really don't know why he wants you." The man stared at her vacantly, and feeling a bit more than uneasy, she averted her gaze and exited the room, letting the door lock shut behind her.

.

* * *

.

Javan could not be certain of exactly how long he'd been confined to a holding cell aboard the _Devastator_, but he suspected it must be no more than two or three hours until dawn. At least it would be dawn on Alderaan and on Imperial Center. Of course, no one in the capital would know what fate had befallen the _Tantive IV_. Darth Vader had seen to that.

After the ship had been captured, the Imperials had boarded and waged a short battle with the Rebels. Against his better judgment, Javan had taken a weapon and attempted to help the soldiers who were supposed to protect him. In the end, it had only helped the stormtroopers find him sooner. He succeeded in killing three of them before they stunned him. When he awoke, they led him to their leader. It had turned out to be none other than the infamous Dark Lord of the Sith.

"_Lord Vader," Javan greeted coldly, watching the Sith carefully. He refused to bow as he had during the conference on Alderaan. _

"_Representative Madai, we meet again," the taller man stated indifferently. _

_Javan raised his chin high to show Vader that he was not afraid. "You are aware, my lord, that the Senate will never stand for this outrageous act. When they hear you've attacked a diplo—"_

"_Don't act so high and mighty, Representative. You and I both know you weren't on any mercy mission this time," Vader interjected. "We have been following a series of transmissions beamed by Rebel spies, and they end here with you. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."_

_Javan shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, my lord. I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to—"_

"_To where? Tatooine?" Vader's eyes lit up in what Javan recognized as triumph. "There is nothing on Tatooine that requires your attention." The Sith smiled cruelly. "Unless you were hoping to contact a certain Rebel spy who resides there."_

_The young man's heart sank. So they had found the woman on Tatooine. He hadn't helped her at all. _

_Vader continued relentlessly. "You are part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor. As is your spy friend. She has already been taken care of." Vader waved at the guards who surrounded Javan. "Take him away."_

"_My peers on Alderaan will know I am missing. What will you do then?"_

_Vader stared at the younger man. "As far as the Senate is concerned, your ship sent a distress signal. Unfortunately when we arrived, we discovered that you had all been killed. A tragic loss." Without another word, the Dark Lord spun around and stalked off. One of the troopers shoved Javan brutally in the back, nearly toppling him over. Biting his lip to withhold a yell, Javan silently followed his captors to the _Devastator

Now the young representative sat in his cell awaiting his fate, pulling his thoughts away from earlier events. He heard someone outside his cell and was only a little surprised when the door slid open. Four stormtroopers stepped in, their blasters trained on him. Javan almost laughed at the way they treated him as if he was a dangerous prisoner.

One of the troopers stepped forward. "Time to go, Rebel." He waved his blaster toward the open doorway.

Javan stood up and followed the troopers as they marched him through the corridors of the Star Destroyer, finally leading him to a hanger bay and an awaiting shuttle. The young Alderaanian eyed the vessel suspiciously but said nothing. Waiting for him on the ramp was Darth Vader.

"You are to come with me to your new prison, Madai," the man said without remorse. Javan let his gaze settle on the Emperor's right hand man, and he realized for the first time that he truly hated someone. He hated this man, this thing. He hated Vader.

He was kept in a part of the shuttle devoid of any viewports, and he only knew they had landed when one of the soldiers on board released him. His hands were bound, and he was brought out onto the ramp. At the bottom he could see Vader standing with his back to him. Another shuttle was docked nearby, and the people aboard it could be seen exiting the enormous hangar bay. Javan strained to make out their features, but to no avail. Instead he focused on his present situation.

He was in a space station of some kind; outside were the stars against the black of space, and on the inside was a bleak, sterile hangar filled with stormtroopers and equipment. Vader was conferring with an officer of some kind, and then he abruptly walked away. The officer approached Javan.

"You there, Rebel," he barked. Javan glared at him. The man didn't even seem to notice. "I'll show you your new home." There was a tone in his voice that Javan did not like at all. Once again he found himself following other men to a destination that would probably prove to be a prison cell.

His captors took him onto a turbolift, and the ride was much longer than Javan would have expected it to be. Very strange. They disembarked on a level very deep in the space station and were greeted by several rows of control panels, each one attended by a black-clothed Imperial guard. Another officer looked up and smiled smugly.

"Where's this one headed?"

"Detention block A-17. Cell 1138."

"All right. Take him then. I don't want to see this scum again." The officer shoved Javan forward. Two of the soldiers took hold of his arms and led him down a corridor.

The detention area officer laughed. "Don't get too comfortable in that cell. Lord Vader ought to be paying a visit soon."

Javan felt his stomach flip over. He didn't even have the luxury of knowing what to expect in an Imperial interrogation. Especially one led by Vader. Javan was completely alone and completely in the dark. He thought of Bail and his father, back on Alderaan. What would they do if they knew where he was right now?

The soldiers brought him to a halt in front of one of the cell doors. They hit the switch, and it opened upward. Javan stepped down into the cell, observing that a metal slab stuck in the wall was the only "furniture" present. He sat down on it, not wanting to anger the Imperials by being stubborn. The detention officer lowered himself into the cell.

"Now, Rebel, don't you want to tell me where the plans are?"

Javan smiled bitterly. "No."

The officer glared down at him. "Tell me this then. Where is the Rebel base?" He glanced back at the guards behind him.

"Sir, your methods are quite laughable. I'll never tell you anything." Javan raised his chin, a gesture recalled from his days in the Royal Palace of Aldera. He did know where the base was; Bail had mentioned it before his departure. But he would never reveal the information.

The officer laughed, and then without warning – although Javan should have expected it – he punched the young man square in the jaw. Javan's head smacked into the wall behind him, and he fell forward onto the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing at the pain exploding in his skull. Something connected with his rib cage, and he moaned as the officer kicked him twice more in the same area.

"Laughable?" the officer hissed, kneeling down to speak in Javan's ear. "Are you laughing now, Rebel?"

Javan turned his head and stared undaunted into the other man's eyes. And he laughed. "Yes." He clutched at his ribs as he picked himself up off of the floor. "I am." He laughed almost like an insane man as he settled back onto the metal slab.

The officer smacked him across the face once more, but Javan refused to break. "Fine," the man concluded. "I think you're ready for Lord Vader."

One of the soldiers came forward and whispered into the officer's ear loud enough for Javan to hear. "But sir, we haven't done all that we can."

The officer's eyes darkened. "It doesn't matter. We'll get nowhere on our own, and the mind probe will be much more effective. Lord Vader will understand."

"Yes, sir."

The Imperials exited the cell. Once the door closed, Javan moaned again and laid down on the cold metal. He cradled his head in his hands, breathing deeply. Perhaps his pride had gotten him through the initial round of interrogation – which really wasn't as bad as he'd expected – but Javan feared that Vader would be much worse.

Roughly half an hour passed, and the door slid open again. Vader's tall form appeared, and the Dark Lord stepped down into the cell. "Now, Representative Madai, we will discuss the location of your hidden Rebel base."

Behind Vader, a black sphere covered in sharp, barbaric instruments floated into the cell. Javan's eyes widened as he took in the monstrosity. He'd heard whispers of such droids, but he'd never believed that anyone would actually create such a thing. Javan backed into the corner of his cell, his gaze locked on the syringe attached to one of the droid's arms.

Lord Vader watched him impassively as the cell door closed and locked the two of them in with the interrogation droid.

.


	12. Chapter Eleven: An Unexpected Turn

Chapter Eleven: An Unexpected Turn

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon _came out of hyperspace above a beautiful jewel of a world, and as she stared out the viewport Leia couldn't help gasping at the sight of the planet Alderaan. She edged closer to the window, paying no attention to the puzzled glances she was receiving from Captain Solo and Chewbacca.

The captain swiveled around in his chair to face the girl. "Now what?" he asked. "You just want me to drop you off on the surface?"

Leia shook her head, averting her gaze from the planet. "No, I need to speak with Bail Organa."

"The _senator_?" Han replied skeptically. "How do you plan to accomplish this?"

The princess smiled. "Just raise security on the communicator. I'll take care of it."

Chewie wroofed something under his breath as he hit the com switch. After a few seconds a gruff male voice came through.

"Alderaan planet security. How can we be of assistance?"

Leia sidled up between the captain and his co-pilot. "We'd like to request an audience with Senator Organa." She paused for a moment, wondering what information she could afford to give out over insecure channels. There was no doubt in her mind that by now the Emperor had noticed her absence, and she had to avoid drawing attention to herself for the time being.

The Alderaanian came back on. "If you want to meet the senator, you should go planetside and make an arrangement, Miss…"

Leia hesitated before answering. "Naberrie," she replied proudly. "Princess Naberrie. And I'd rather go directly to the palace, if it's not too much trouble." Only a select few people knew her as Leia Naberrie, so she was in no danger of being recognized by this Alderaanian man. However, if he asked her for identification…

There was a confused silence from the other end, as well as from the _Falcon's _cockpit. "Princess Naberrie, I'll need some confirmation of identification," the security personnel finally responded.

Leia bit her lip, contemplating her next move. The identification process would notify her father and the Emperor of her presence on Alderaan. She couldn't afford that. Not yet. "If I could just speak with the senator, I'm sure he would—"

"Look, princess, I can't do anything without your identification."

Beside her, Han smirked. "You'll take care of it, huh?"

Leia glared down at him before returning to the conversation. "Sir, I assure you that I am well-placed within the ranks of the Imperial government. Do you wish to deal with the Empire on this matter? Couldn't you just contact Senator Organa for one minute?" She prayed that the man would not call her bluff.

He seemed to consider it for a few moments. "Wait while I check with someone." The channel buzzed in the interlude, and Leia sighed reluctantly.

Han folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. "So. You're a princess?"

The girl shrugged. "More or less."

"How's that?"

Leia averted her eyes for a split second, thinking up a lie that might be believable. "I'm a distant niece of Emperor Palpatine's." Now there was a sickening thought.

Han seemed to buy it. "Why do you want to meet with Organa? Royal get together? Early morning tea?" He laughed at his own joke.

"That's not funny," Leia replied, a bit more coldly than she intended.

Han threw his hands up in exasperation. "I'm sorry, Your Worshipfulness, next time I'll warn you before I try to be amusing." He went back to the control panel, blatantly ignoring the girl still standing beside him.

Leia glared at his turned back, imagining all sorts of vile remarks she could make and knowing full well that he'd probably come up with something equally nasty to spit back at her. The com crackled, drawing her attention away from the irksome captain.

"Princess Naberrie?" The cultured, accented voice on the other end was not the one with whom she had been speaking a few minutes ago.

"Yes," Leia replied, remembering the voice from the last time she'd been on Alderaan, when she and her father had attended the meeting with the senator and his council. _Don't think about Father now_, she willed herself. The voice belonged to Bail Organa, Viceroy and Prince of Alderaan, respected Imperial senator. "Princess _Leia _Naberrie," she added, placing emphasis on her first name in hopes that Organa would remember that name from their meeting.

"Princess, I understand you wish to meet with me," Organa addressed, a hint of something odd in his tone. Leia couldn't put her finger on it. Fatigue? Worry?

Fear?

"That is correct, Senator Organa. Please, it is of an urgent nature," Leia informed. She lowered her voice. "If it helps at all, the Emperor does not know of my presence here."

"And your father?" The words hit her with their bluntness. He had indeed recognized her. But more importantly…

"You know my father? How?"

There was the briefest of pauses. "At our last meeting his behavior toward you was that of a father. I'm a politician, Princess. It's my job to be this observant."

Leia shook off her unease. "Well, he knows nothing of this particular meeting. No one knows." No one except for Luke – but Organa didn't need to know that.

Organa paused as if mulling over his options. "I will have you escorted to my private hangar. Please be aware that no weapons are allowed on Alderaan. Any that you have with you must remain aboard your ship."

Leia winced. She never went anywhere without her lightsaber. Still, the urge to see the senator outweighed the need to have a weapon with her. "I have no problem with that, Senator Organa." She pretended not to hear Han's grunt of disapproval. "I'll see you shortly."

"I'll be waiting." The line filled with static as the channel switched back to the planet security line. The gruff voice returned.

"Princess Naberrie? This is Captain Frith again. I'll have two of my ships direct you to the appropriate entry point."

Leia leaned in toward the comlink. "Thank you, captain." She turned to Han, who was still trying to ignore her. "Your turn."

Han looked up at her, his eyebrows raised. "No weapons and you still want to go down there?"

Leia nodded, folding her arms over her chest with finality. Her expression dared him to argue.

"Fine," Han muttered. "How much are you paying me again?"

"Enough."

Han grinned. "I figured you'd say that. Rich people." He snorted, returning his attention to flying the ship.

They followed two small ships to a point near the atmosphere that was supposed to be near Bail Organa's hangar. After entering the planet's atmosphere, the occupants of the _Falcon _found themselves in the midst of a beautiful city with sparkling white domes and spires, surrounded byfields of emerald green and pristine snow-capped mountains. Leia took in the magnificence of it all, realizing how much of it she had not noticed on her last visit here.

Security personnel directed them into the hangar, where they were met by an elderly man. As they disembarked, Han eyed the silver-haired man suspiciously. Leia was also a bit surprised that only one person had been sent, but then again, on a pacifist planet, what need was there for a show of force?

The man smiled politely and bowed. "Your Highness and esteemed guests," he greeted, noticing the scruffy pilot and his Wookiee companion. "Welcome to Aldera. I am Yon Anowis, a member of Prince Organa's advisory council. He has asked me to escort you to the palace, Princess." The man gazed at her expectantly.

Leia looked over at Han and Chewie. "What about my companions?"

"If they wish to come with you, they will have to remain in the outer chambers."

Han raised his eyebrows. "I think we'll just stay here in the hangar, if you don't mind."

Councilor Anowis nodded in agreement. "Very well. Princess, if you'll follow me."

Leia swallowed the hint of anxiety she was beginning to feel and fell into step behind the councilor. They strode from the vast hangar – which was located in the royal complex – to the palace. Leia marveled that such a journey required no transportation. Last time she had been on Alderaan, she had spent half of the time in a closed speeder with her father.

_Stop thinking about him._

Leia was led to the antechamber of the throne room and directed to wait a moment while Organa finished some important business. Finally the doors opened, and a white-haired – though seemingly young – woman walked out. She glanced at Leia, her eyes widening in what the princess recognized as alarm. She hurried past the girl, averting her eyes. Leia watched her for a few minutes, wondering what that had been about.

"You must forgive Winter. She's not used to the Imperial presence on Alderaan."

Leia twisted around to find Bail Organa standing in the doorway of the throne room. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, his poise both dignified and friendly at once. He smiled and nodded in the direction of the retreating girl. "She's actually about your age. Her parents are old friends of mine. Very bright girl." His accent was even more soothing in person.

Leia found herself bowing at the waist. "I'm sure she is, senator."

Organa smiled, training his eyes on her. "Princess Leia, what an unexpected pleasure this is," he greeted cordially.

Leia dipped her head respectfully, returning his smile. "Senator Organa. Thank you for receiving me on such short notice." The princess eyed Organa carefully. "In light of your recent dealings with my father, I can't say I understand why you would admit me, especially without any formal identification."

Senator Organa seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I suppose, Princess, that there is no easy way of making you understand my reasons." He looked away briefly, as if searching for the proper words. "I hope you will be satisfied with knowing that I do not consider you to be the same person as your father." He gestured for her to enter the throne room. "Enough of my rambling. You wished for us to speak, and so we shall."

Leia followed Organa into the ornate and beautiful throne room, staring in wonderment at the elegantly carved stone and the vibrant paintings lining the walls. Organa directed her to sit in one of the chairs reserved for the advisory council members, while he sat in another one, leaving the throne empty. Leia noticed the silent message behind the action. He was signaling to her that they were on equal footing here.

The princess thought she should open up the conversation, but now that she was here with Senator Organa, she had no idea what to say. She felt almost foolish for coming here on a whim and wondered if it might have been a mistake.

Organa seemed to notice her indecision. "Princess, I sense that you have something to say, but are unsure about how to say it."

Leia laughed nervously. "You're not far off, senator. I have something to say, but I don't think I even know what it is." She looked down at her hands, which were busily fussing with the sleeves of her dark robes.

Organa smiled gently. "You remind me very much of your parents," he murmured, some hidden realization apparent in his voice. "At least in their youth. You are much like your father was when he was young. Always questioning things, even your own thoughts and instincts."

Leia jerked her head up, startled by the abrupt shift of focus. She had been carefully avoiding thoughts of her father, and now here was Organa bringing up that seemingly inescapable subject. "I very much doubt it, senator. My father is as unchanging as the Empire itself. He never second-guesses himself," she replied bitterly.

Organa gazed at her with interest. "Perhaps."

Leia felt irritation at the calmness with which Organa spoke of her father. "How can you be so serene? My father has brought the Empire to your doorstep, and you sit here recalling the days of his youth?"

The senator frowned. "You're not one to mince words, I'll give you that," he returned. "Just like your mother."

The mention of her mother caught Leia completely off guard. "Did…did you know her?" she asked quietly, forgetting her anger.

Organa seemed to grow older in the silence that followed. "Yes," he sighed, "I knew her." He met Leia's gaze. "You have her eyes, you know. And her stubbornness."

Leia couldn't help laughing. "You haven't seen the extent of my stubbornness."

"I believe you."

Leia relaxed a little, but she was still curious about how Bail Organa knew her mother. "Senator Organa—"

"Please, call me Bail."

Leia stared at him in confusion for a minute before continuing. "All right. Bail…were you a friend of my mother's?"

"Leia," Bail interjected, his expression grave. "I don't think you are ready to hear some of the things I would say to you." He clasped his hands together, as if praying for guidance. "I don't think you are ready for the burden."

"What are you talking about?"

Bail stood up, facing away from her, his head bowed. "The past is a tangled mess. What should have happened…everything was horribly skewed."

"You're talking about the Empire? The Jedi Purges?"

"Yes…and no. You're not ready to hear it, Leia. Just trust me, please."

"I came here to help you!" Leia exclaimed. "To help you fight the Empire! How am I not ready? I'm rebelling against the Emperor, and still I'm not ready? You don't even know me!"

Bail sighed miserably. "It's not that simple, Leia. I wish it was. I wish many things had happened, but fate threw us an unexpected turn. I can do nothing to change that." He stepped toward Leia, placing a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "All I can do is work for the future. And protect the last chance for hope."

Leia gazed up at him in bewilderment. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the best thing for you to do is leave here."

"And return to the Emperor? Return to my father?"

Bail squeezed her shoulder, then released her and stepped backward. "No. I'm just telling you to leave here. Make your own destiny, Leia. Someday, when you are ready, you will find the answers to the questions you asked here."

Leia stood in indecision between Bail and the door, unable to make herself move either way. She'd run away from home, left her family behind, and she had achieved nothing. She fought hard to keep her face from mirroring the desolation that was creeping into her heart. Yes, she wanted to destroy the Emperor someday, but it would be hard to do so when she was all alone. And now with this secretive aura surrounding her mother and Bail Organa's refusal to share with her the details of her mother's past…it was overwhelming and disheartening at the same time. The hope that she'd had was fading fast.

"Leia," Bail spoke softly, "trust me. You're not safe here. Not now."

Leia shook her head but found herself moving toward the door. She turned away and strode toward the large entrance, feeling very foolish and very unfulfilled. As she reached the door, a realization struck her, and she turned back to face the famed senator of Alderaan.

"Bail, I have one question, which I hope you'll answer for me," she stated, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"Yes?"

Leia took a deep breath. "What was my mother's name?"

Bail offered her a warm smile, able to grant this small request. "Her name was Padmé."

.

* * *

.

Luke awoke with the soft rays of early morning sunshine streaming through his window, and as he sat up it hardly seemed possible that Leia was gone.

Yet when he reached out to touch her familiar presence he felt only a faint glimmer in the Force, the kind of sensation that merely told him she was alive and well. As far as he knew, she had made it to Alderaan or would be there soon. He hoped she would have the chance to meet Senator Organa. She'd risked much in making the voyage, and it would be a devastating blow for her to go all that way for nothing.

Luke stretched his arms out, feeling the muscles in his shoulders tighten and then loosen as he yawned loudly. He vaulted himself out of bed and performed a few routine stretches to further relax his still sore body. As he finished bending over backward, he heard his comlink beep. Flipping himself over, he walked over to the desktop where he'd left the com the night before. "Shade," he answered.

"Morning, Highness."

Luke suppressed a grin at the sound of the tired, female voice. "Up late last night, Mara?"

There was a silence on the other end that Luke recognized as one of unease. "You could say that," Mara replied. "Listen, the Emperor has called a special session of the Senate. He's leaving…well, he's leaving now. If you want to attend, you'd better get moving."

Luke felt his eyebrows narrow involuntarily at the news. "A special session? Any idea why?"

"I'm not sure, but it probably has something to do with the Rebels."

"What else?" Luke muttered sarcastically. "All right, I'll be there. Are you going?"

"No. The Emperor wishes me to remain here and begin my training session. I'm supposed to be trying something new today, is all he said."

"Well, then I guess I'll see you sometime later," Luke replied.

"Right. Jade out." The sound disappeared as Mara switched her comlink off. Luke clipped his to the belt that was also lying on the desktop, and he looked over at the fresher.

_I hope no one cares if I bypass that just this once._

Luke grinned at the thought of senators and rulers wrinkling their noses at the dried sweat smell that the Imperial Prince was so accustomed to. Not that it was that bad. He'd put some ornate robes on, and then no one would notice his hygiene.

_Leia would die if she knew I was going out in public without a shower._

The thought of his sister sent a dull stab of pain through his heart. He missed her. He missed having her there to criticize his choices. He missed having her there to tell him that he should wear the black robes with crimson piping rather than the dark green robes. He missed having her there to help bear the weight of Palpatine's presence.

The prince sighed as he opened his wardrobe and withdrew a jet black tunic and pants with royal blue stripes along the sleeves and pant legs. He chose a rich, silk, hooded cape of a matching black, this one with a silver chain which he fastened across his neck. He quickly examined himself in a mirror, struck by the way the outfit made him seem much more powerful than he felt. For a split-second he thought he was looking at a scruffy-haired version of his father.

His father's private speeder was waiting for Luke at a secure landing pad, and as soon as he entered it, the speeder took off for the Senate building. Luke gazed out the shielded windows at the countless beings zipping by in their own vehicles, and he wondered where they were going, what their lives were like, if they even cared about the Emperor or Darth Vader. Or the Prince and Princess for that matter. He continued to stare at the blurred mass of life and color as they approached the domed building ahead.

Luke was dropped off at the entrance reserved for the Lord Darth Vader and accompanied by black-armored Imperial soldiers. He didn't actually need the protection, but it didn't hurt to keep up the image. Concealed beneath his cloak was his lightsaber. Technically weapons weren't permitted in the Senate chamber, but Luke knew for a fact that Palpatine had long ago broken that rule. If no one else did, then they were either confident or stupid.

The soldiers escorted Luke to a box at the same level as the Emperor's tall podium and behind it so that the prince could see the Emperor, but the Emperor could not see him. He would probably still sense his presence though. That was one of the disadvantages of being ruled by a Sith Master.

The Emperor had just taken his position in the midst of the chamber, and the murmurs amongst the senators began to die down. Luke unconsciously leaned forward in his seat, waiting for Palpatine to begin his address. The old man raised his gnarled hands and placed them on the edge of the podium, as if bracing himself and the Senate for some terrible news.

"Honorable Imperial representatives, it is with a heavy heart that I welcome you here today," the old man began. "You are all familiar with the Rebellion that has tried for almost twenty years to topple this grand Empire. Some of you, it shames me to say, are more familiar with it than others." Palpatine paused to let his yellow eyes wander across the vast chamber. "What some of you may not know is that yesterday we lost one of our number to a Rebel act of terror. The Alderaani vessel, _Tantive IV_ – which was a _consular _ship, I might add – was attacked while on a diplomatic mission. Imperial ships received a distress signal, but when they arrived, there was nothing left but debris. I am saddened to say that Representative Javan Madai of Alderaan was lost in the attack, as well as his entire crew."

Frightened murmurs and mournful whispers sprung up among the senators as the Emperor waited for the information to sink in. Luke studied the old man's posture, searching for any clue as to the purpose for sharing this information. Luke had long suspected that Alderaan might be sympathetic to the Rebel cause. It would be ludicrous for the Rebels to attack someone from the planet they were hoping to ally with. There had to be some falsehood in the story the Emperor had related.

Again the murmurs died down as the Emperor prepared to speak again. "Long ago you granted me emergency powers to handle the Separatists. Since then you have prospered. Anyone who says otherwise is a traitor." There was another pronounced silence as Palpatine let the words hang in the air. "Today, after consulting military advisors, I have decided that the Rebel Alliance poses too much of a threat to be ignored any longer. If left unchecked, their malicious influence will spread through the galaxy like wildfire. And the place where it will spread the quickest is here, in this chamber. As of today, the Imperial Senate is dissolved."

Luke jumped out of his seat, as did hundreds of other beings in the room. A wave of outrage crashed in the Force, surprising the prince with its intensity. Underneath it, though, he sensed a current of fear which kept all but the bravest of senators from doing more than leaping up in protest. Luke wondered how many Rebels were in the room. Shaking his head, the boy turned to leave, unwilling to stay for the rest of this spectacle. The Emperor was saying something about setting up an advisory council, but Luke knew that such a thing would be for show only. Today Palpatine had accomplished one of his biggest goals: absolute power and authority in the galaxy. The only group standing in his way was the Rebellion.

Luke waved at the guards, signaling to them that he was leaving. He had more important matters to attend to than watching Palpatine lie to his subjects. After a restless night, he still couldn't get the name "Rhen Var" out of his thoughts, and something was urging him to look in his father's private library for answers. The planet – he was sure now that it was a planet – had something to do with the Jedi, and his father had done battle with countless Jedi. If anyone were to have information relative to his visions, it would be his father. It wouldn't be easy to get past the security for his father's private network, but Luke had a feeling that he could do it. Once he put his mind to it, he could do anything.

The angered protests had faded away, and all Luke could hear was the Emperor's cold, raspy voice reaching out toward the senators like some awful, impending doom.

.

* * *

.

The numerous locks on his prison cell door clicked out of place, and Aidan looked up as a white-armored stormtrooper entered the dingy room. The assassin had tried to sleep, but he was still feeling surprisingly fatigued. There would be no escape attempts today.

"_I trust you will not be so foolish in the future, my young apprentice."_

Aidan cringed at the memory of the Emperor's words. Maybe there would never be any escape attempts. It was hard for him to imagine being confined to the same place for more than a few weeks, but it sounded as though the Emperor would want him for as long as he was useful – however long that might be.

The stormtrooper gestured toward the open door with his blaster. "The Emperor wishes to see you."

Aidan stood up mechanically, without really telling himself to. He could feel himself slipping into his usual emotionless state. If he could deflect any psychological maneuvering by the Emperor, maybe he would get through his time here without losing his senses. He followed the trooper out of the cell and found Mara Jade standing next to another guard.

"Afraid I might try to run away?" he quipped, the humor in his voice not quite reaching his dusky blue eyes.

Mara Jade stared back at him, the look on her face a clear indicator that she had not slept much either. "Just shut up and follow me," she commanded sharply.

Surprisingly, Aidan found himself obeying. He told himself that it was simply because he had nothing else to say. The girl and the stormtrooper escorts led him to the same turbolift that had brought him down here the night before. After a long, silent ride in the stark interior of the lift, they arrived at a level fairly high up in the palace. One of the troopers nudged him none too gently in the back as they disembarked, and Aidan made a mental note of the man's signature in the Force – a skill he'd found very useful in his line of work – so that if he ever met him again, he could kill him. Aidan kept himself from stumbling from the blow, and he held himself erect as they entered a large, empty room. It was sparsely lighted, and the walls were black. A shadow against the wall moved, and Aidan realized it was the same old man who had been sitting on the throne the night before. He flinched involuntarily at the sight but remained otherwise unmoved by the appearance of the Emperor.

The bone-white face split in a joyless smile. "Welcome to your new home, my young apprentice," he greeted, sweeping out his arm to indicate the room. "This is your training room, and through that door you will find suitable living quarters." He pointed at an inconspicuous door off to the right.

Aidan looked around the room, then back at the Emperor. "Training for what?"

Another smile. "The Force is strong in you, young Rennal. But it is untamed, unfocused, and only partially tapped. There is much more to you than you realize, and I wish to help you find your true strength."

The assassin eyed the old man skeptically. "I thought you killed off all the Jedi. Why train a new one?"

The Emperor let out a mirthless laugh. "Just because you wield the Force, that does not mean you are a Jedi. Surely you must know that, after the things you've done. You're old enough to know what the Jedi stood for, and you certainly don't fit their criteria."

Aidan gritted his teeth. Didn't the man know that insults would get him nowhere? Even if everything he said was true, hearing it described in such a way only fueled Aidan's anger. "I get the point, Highness. So what do you want with me?"

"Why, I want to train you to use the Force in a way that the Jedi never dared to embrace. They preached peace and serenity, but you and I both know that such ideals only breed weakness." The Emperor stepped toward Aidan, speaking like one would toward an old friend or a reliable confidant. "I will show you the true strength of the Force. You can use your hate – something I know you possess in great amount – to become more powerful than you could possibly imagine." He pointed at Mara. "Like Mara, you will serve me with your talents. In return, you will be allowed to live and grow stronger."

Aidan considered the Emperor's words for a moment, turning them over and over in his brain, picking through all the deceptions before finally arriving at what he believed to be the truth: whatever else the Emperor had in mind for him, he would be given the chance to increase his power and strength. He would learn to fully control the strange energy that he knew only as the Force, and – someday – he might even have the power to exact vengeance upon all who had wronged him through the years. There was only one thing he could say to the Emperor's offer.

"When do we start?"

The Emperor smiled yet again, this time with a glint of triumph in his eyes. "First we assess your current abilities. Mara," he barked. The girl stepped forward briskly.

"Yes, my master?"

"Do you have the extra saber that I sent you this morning?"

"Of course, my master." She pulled out a silver cylinder and placed it in the Emperor's outstretched hand. The Emperor in turn handed it to Aidan, who accepted it hesitantly.

"Turn it on," the old man commanded.

Aidan found the button and with his thumb he activated it, sending a brilliant violet blade of light out of one end.

The Emperor pointed at the lightsaber. "One of many confiscated during the purge of Jedi. It was retrieved from the lower levels of Imperial Center, much as you were, young Rennal. This particular one belonged to a quite powerful Jedi Master. But in the end, the more powerful man emerged victorious."

Aidan barely heard the man's words as his eyes drank in the purple light from the saber. As he held the surprisingly light weapon in his hand he felt the shadow of a memory tug at some distant corner of his mind.

_He was no more than two years old, and someone was holding him by the waist. They whispered something in his ear, though he had no real recollection of the words. He could hardly even remember the voice – he simply knew that there was a person behind him and that it was his mother. Before him stood a man, his face bright with anticipation. He twirled a green lightsaber in circles, winking at Aidan. He remembered reaching out to touch it. "No, darling. Don't touch," said the voice behind him._

The scene was hazy and brief, and though Aidan could still see it after two and a half decades, he wondered if there was a chance that he'd dreamed it up. One thing that had remained with him through all those years was the association of the word "father" with the man in the memory. Now, holding the lightsaber in his hands, the truth was obvious.

"I watched my father play with one of these once," he murmured, an air of confidence in his voice that came more from the realization of what his father had been than from any physical source.

The Emperor studied the assassin intently. "Really…" he trailed off, losing himself in thought. "And who was your father?"

Aidan shrugged, still lost in the violet light. "I don't know."

The Emperor stroked his chin thoughtfully. "How very interesting."

Aidan twirled the lightsaber the way his father had done over two decades ago. He believed that he did it just slightly better than the man from his memory. That man had died a Jedi. Aidan would live a god.

.

* * *

.

He had been searching his father's private files for at least an hour, and still Luke had found nothing. After hacking into Darth Vader's system – which was not an easy task – he had tried a broad word search for "Renvar." After that he had added details such as "Jedi," "Jedi battles," "Jedi purge," and even "Clone Wars" to the planet name. Everything that appeared seemed to have nothing to do with what he really wanted to find. However this planet was linked to the Jedi, it certainly wasn't showing up in any of the files so far. Luke wondered for a moment if his vision had taken place so far in that past that it wasn't even relevant to the present. Letting out an audible sigh, the prince leaned back against the hard steel chair and stared wearily at the screen. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the results of his last search.

Input Query Renvar Clone Wars battle

3 results found; continue?Y

1) Clone Wars personnel database  
2) Clone Wars casualties  
3) Clone Wars finance log

Luke chose the second result, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to look. Another screen appeared with an enormously long list of options. He scanned the list, his eyes stopping on a list that seemed to jump out at him.

Jedi casualties

Luke pulled down the Jedi menu and scrolled through another list of names. He pulled up one of the Jedi screens near the bottom of the list just to see what kind of information was provided.

Name: Trebor, Coleman  
Rank: Jedi Master  
Position: Jedi High Council

There was a list of statistics, some background history, and even a picture of the dead Jedi. Luke noted that he was a strong-looking Vurk hailing from the watery planet Sembla. The prince marveled that a member of that primitive amphibious species could even grasp the concept of the Force, let alone use it. Perhaps his information on the Vurks was wrong. He stared at the last piece of information on the screen.

Killed in Action, Battle of Geonosis

Luke felt a sliver of ice slide down his spine. He returned to the main Jedi casualties menu and continued to search through the names for anything that might stick out. He had reached the P's before he saw a name he recognized.

Phelar, Zavra

Luke sucked in a sharp breath.

Zavra. In his vision he had heard someone calling out that name when the Jedi fell from the transport. The name of the dead Jedi was Zavra. With a renewed sense of urgency, Luke pulled up the information for Zavra Phelar.

Name: Phelar, Zavra  
Rank: Jedi Padawan  
Position: Apprentice, Second Lieutenant  
Homeworld: Unknown  
Species: Human  
Gender: Male  
Height: 1.69 meters

There was a birth date which indicated the man had been twenty-two standard years at the time of his death. Further down was a picture of a dark-haired youth with a scholar's look to his face and a hint of wistful curiosity beneath the solemn exterior. He stared out at Luke with the same eyes he had seen in his vision, only this time the eyes weren't glazed over in death. They were still very much alive and full of possibilities. There was not much information provided. Apparently he had died early in the Clone Wars. Luke scrolled down, hoping to find out exactly where this man had died.

Killed in Action, First Battle of Rhen Var

Luke wanted to smack himself upside the head. He had been spelling the name wrong, for the Force's sake. As he read the words, the urgency he had experienced melted into graveness. The pleasure at finding a link to the information he had been seeking did not quite cover the feeling that he had intruded upon the dead. He had watched this man die in a vision, and he had found his private records. He had forced his way into Zavra Phelar's life when he had no business being there.

With some hesitancy, Luke brought up the link for the First Battle of Rhen Var. It was indeed a planet, and a wintry one at that. There was a summary of the battle, a list of Republic and Separatist divisions involved in the battle, as well as mention of the Second Battle of Rhen Var. The Republic retreat in the first battle was included, as well as another list of casualties, this time pertaining only to the one battle. Luke couldn't find anything out of the usual, so he went back to Zavra's screen. Down near the bottom was a list of people associated with the young Jedi during the war.

Sivren, Rookaja – Jedi Master to Phelar, Commander  
Gallia, Adi – Master in Charge of Base, General  
Chanus, Tek – Apprentice, Second Lieutenant

The list continued on until an interesting one appeared at the bottom.

Unidentified Jedi – led fleeing Jedi to safety

Luke tried pull up the unidentified Jedi's data screen.

Password Required

Luke tried the password he had used to hack into his father's system. A red light flashed when he entered it in.

ACCESS DENIED

SYSTEM NOW OFFLINE

As he watched in shock, the terminal shut off automatically, and when Luke tried to restart it, the system refused to allow itself to be turned back on. Whoever this unidentified Jedi had been, he was important enough – or dangerous enough – that only Darth Vader himself could gain access to his files without crashing the system. Luke stood up from his chair and stared at the blank screen for a few moments, wondering what exactly he'd been doing. He hoped that when his father returned he would not find out what Luke had been up to. With one last glance back at the screen, the prince rushed from his father's corners and retreated to the safety of the training room.

.


	13. Chapter Twelve: The Death Star

Chapter Twelve: The Death Star

* * *

Leia sighed as the hatch on the _Millennium Falcon_ closed with a despairing hiss. Despite Bail Organa's words of advice and reassurance, she still felt lost inside. She had come to Alderaan believing it was her destiny to side with the Rebellion and defeat the Emperor. Now she doubted any of this had been the will of the Force. Organa had spent more time discussing her parents than he had spent on the more important issue of Leia wanting to help him.

As if attempting to make up for his reluctance to involve her in galactic affairs, Bail had given her two droids, saying that they had belonged to her mother and had been left in his care. Leia had no real interest in droids of any kind, but they were an intriguing pair. The tall, golden humanoid was as finicky as any bureaucrat, and his prissy voice reflected what seemed like a constant state of alarm. The short, blue and white droid – which looked like a large trash receptacle – was the polar opposite of the tall droid. He communicated in a series of beeps and whistles, but somehow he managed to convey his meaning despite this. Their numbers were C-3PO and R2-D2, respectively.

The moment Leia brought the two droids on board, Captain Solo flew down on her.

"Where did you get _these_?"

Leia glared up at him indignantly. It was one thing for her to be inconvenienced by the presence of the droids. It was an entirely different matter for the cocky, braggart of a pilot – whom she was rewarding handsomely, lest he forget – to act as though he was being inconvenienced. She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a look she had long ago learned from her father.

"They're _mine_, and if you have a problem with them being here, tell me right now. Otherwise, get back to your job and get us off this planet."

The smuggler stood in momentary shock as the princess sidestepped him and marched toward the cockpit. Leia allowed herself a wry grin as she entered the cramped cabin, aware that she had gained the upper hand. Han entered a moment later, scowling at the chatter of the golden droid.

"I am fluent in over six million forms of communication and can readily—"

"The only form of communication I want you to be fluent in is silence," Han snapped back at the droid, giving Leia the evil eye. "You better be paying me a _lot_, Your Highnessness."

Leia smiled. "All in good time, Captain Solo."

Han mumbled something about droids and trash compactors as he prepped the _Falcon_ for take-off. Chewbacca entered the cockpit and sat down in the co-pilot's seat, which Leia had wisely left available. After a few moments, the freighter lifted off of the hangar floor and began its ascent into space.

Leia stood behind the smuggler and the Wookiee as the sky shifted from cloudy blue to starry black. She began to absently rub the necklace that Bail had given to her right after revealing her mother's name.

_"This was your mother's…it would have been wasted on the Imperial Court, as she well knew."_

It was a tiny wooden pendant, which Bail had referred to as a japor snippet. It hung by a thin silver chain, and the smooth wood was carefully carved. It looked like a labor of love. Leia had never owned anything like it – all of her jewelry was the best money could buy, and her necklaces usually weighed more than her lightsaber. This pendant was light, and there was a gritty attractiveness to it, as if whoever had made it was accustomed to physical labor. Leia had always admired that particular quality because she saw so little of it on Imperial Center.

Letting the pendant fall against her neck, she returned her gaze to the viewport and wondered where she would go now.

As if on cue, Han swiveled around in his chair to face the princess. "So where to now?"

Before she could answer, Leia felt a powerful surge of energy, a new presence – one which she knew all too well. It couldn't possibly be…Luke had sworn not to tell. She leaned over Han and searched the scanners for signs of anything out of the ordinary.

"What are you looking for?"

In response to Han's question, an enormous, spherical structure appeared in what had seconds before been a black void. Leia felt her heart stop beating as she realized it was too late to run.

"What the hell is that?" the smuggler gasped.

Leia snapped out of her reverie. "Turn the ship around," she ordered, feeling the former sensation grow steadily stronger.

"Yeah," Han replied, "I think your right. Chewie—"

The Wookiee interrupted with a panicked growl.

"Well what is that thing? It looks like some kind of moon or—"

"It's not," Leia murmured. "It's a space station."

Han shook his head, continuing to adjust the controls. "It's too big to be a space station, kid…" He trailed off as the _Falcon_ flew closer to the object,

Leia shut her eyes, trying to block herself from the presence in that station. "We're not going to make it."

Han uttered a string of unique Corellian curses in response. "You're right, it _is_ a space station. We're caught in its tractor beam." He flipped a switch. "Shut down, Chewie. They won't get us without a fight."

Leia bit her lip. The freighter approached the station, dwarfed by the colossal structure. She felt a tug at her consciousness, as if someone was probing through the Force.

"Hey, come on, Your Worship." Han grabbed her by her robes. "We can hide in the smuggling compartments."

"It won't do any good," Leia whispered, feeling smaller by the second.

The look Han gave her was one of disbelief and anger. "Are you this stubborn about _everything_? We've got to hide. I'm not exactly on the best terms with these guys, you know."

"They already know we're here." Leia nearly swallowed her tongue. She had shielded enough to disguise her Force-signature, but he surely knew that someone had arrived. He would come soon, and then it would all be over.

The smuggler's eyes narrowed as he stepped forward and gripped Leia by her upper arms. "I've had enough of this. You're not just a distant niece of Palpatine's. Who are you, kid?"

Leia met his gaze with solemnity. "I am the daughter of Lord Darth Vader."

Whatever he had been expecting, that was not it. The smuggler let go of her as if burned. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Leia stared up at him miserably. It was only a matter of time.

.

* * *

.

Javan opened his eyes, aware of a constant throbbing in his body that was left over from his interrogation session with Darth Vader. He had no idea how long he'd been sleeping, but it hadn't been long enough. His vision was fuzzy around the edges, and his motions were noticeably sluggish. When he had agreed to go on the mission for his cousin, he never truly imagined that he would end up being tortured and imprisoned by the Empire. He sat up and massaged his temples, mulling over how close he had come to giving the Imperials what they wanted.

_The buzzing in his brain began as soon as he'd been injected with truth serum, but he was aware that the noise was coming from an altogether different source. There had been a subtle pressure that Javan knew was being inflicted by Lord Vader and his mysterious Force. Javan resisted the drugging and the mind influence for as long as he could, but sooner or later his barriers would fall, and the Rebel base would be compromised._

_As he slipped further from his controlled center, Javan found himself calling on old memories for comfort. He saw his father sitting in the cultured gardens of the Royal Palace, calling Javan to him. He saw the crowd parting to let Bail through at a parade. As the interrogation continued the young man brought up images of his very early childhood. Images of Bail pacing back and forth in the middle of the night and of the Queen crying. These were memories he had always known he could not show to anyone else. The buzzing began to decrease._

_Further back Javan saw his mother shaking her head and holding onto his father for support. A cloaked figure held out its hands, pleading. Something silver shined from inside the cloak. Beyond that a chair was knocked over, and he was crying. The buzzing stopped._

For some reason his memories had helped him resist the incredibly powerful urge to reveal the location of the secret Rebel base. After the torture droid's failure, Vader had left the cell, and Javan had promptly fallen asleep.

The cell door slid open, and two white-armored guards stepped inside, their blasters trained on Javan. "Get up, Rebel," one of them grunted automatically. Javan stood and followed them out of his cell. As he emerged from the low doorway, he noticed the cell next to his was open. At the end of the corridor three stormtroopers escorted another prisoner. They drew closer, and Javan realized that the prisoner was a middle-aged woman. She had blood crusted at the corners of her mouth and bruises along the right side of her face. As she was led into her cell she looked up and locked eyes with Javan. It was her, the spy from Tatooine. Javan offered her a look of deepest sympathy, which she returned just before the stormtroopers shoved her into the cell.

Javan's guards led him to a turbolift where he was taken up several levels. Waiting for him was Darth Vader, who stood calmly with his hands clasped behind his back. Without a word the Dark Lord, the Rebel, and the guards proceeded down a dark gray corridor. At the end Javan glimpsed part of a viewscreen which revealed the black void of space. Standing before the viewscreen was a thin man with light gray hair. The group halted within a few feet of the man, and as he turned to face them Javan realized that he knew this person.

"Grand Moff Tarkin," Javan stated as regally as he could manage. "Have you been recently promoted? I should have guessed that Lord Vader was superior around here, but apparently I am wrong."

Tarkin's sharp features formed a cold smile. "And I should have guessed that you would have inherited your mother's delicate, quiet nature. Apparently we are both mistaken."

Javan suppressed a growl. He hated being reminded that Wilhuff Tarkin had once tried to woo his mother, several years before he was born. "Apparently," he returned.

Tarkin smiled again, first at Vader, then at Javan. "You don't know how difficult it was signing the order to terminate your life, my boy. You do have your mother's grace."

"Not enough to save me, it would seem."

"Such bitterness, Javan," the governor laughed. It was hard to believe he was not much more than a ruler of a few Outer-Rim systems. "But now to the point. Before your execution I invite you to a ceremony that will make this battle station fully operational."

_Battle station?_

"In a way," Tarkin continued, "you have decided the planet which will be destroyed first."

Javan laughed darkly. "Destroyed? It would take more fire power than—"

"Representative Madai, haven't you even seen the plans you were carrying?"

Javan's heart grew still as a nearby officer turned on a holograph to Tarkin's left. A small spherical structure was shown blasting apart a planet several times its size. The schematics for the station flashed on an adjacent computer screen.

"The Death Star has not yet been tested, but the real destruction will be similar to that simulation." Tarkin approached Javan, his voice driving away any hope the young man may have held on to. "Since you are unwilling to share with us the location of the Rebel base, I have decided to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan."

"No!" Javan exclaimed. "You wouldn't! We're completely unarmed, you wouldn't dare—"

"Are you suggesting an alternative military target?" Tarkin drilled, pushing his face right up to Javan's. "Then name the system, boy!"

Javan swallowed hard, backing into Darth Vader, who remained unmoving.

"Where is the base?"

Javan stared beyond his enemy at Alderaan. Bail was there right now, completely unaware that with one word from his favorite cousin he would either live or die.

"Traxius," he burst out, giving them the name of an uninhabited, Outer-Rim world that he had once heard of. "The base is on Traxius."

Tarkin smiled. "You see, Lord Vader, how reasonable he can be?" He turned to face a younger officer. "Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready."

"_What_?" Javan exploded. Vader gripped him by the shoulders in an effort to restrain him.

"You're far too trusting, another of Inade's more endearing traits. Traxius is too remote to make an effective demonstration, but don't worry. We will deal with your Rebel friends soon enough."

Javan tried to break free. "No," he growled, straining against Vader's grip.

Somewhere in the bowels of the Death Star, the technicians prepared the new superweapon for its first test. Black helmets hid the faces of the men as they worked in the darkened control room, their gloved fingers dancing across the colorful control panel. They moved automatically to the drone of their superior officer, quietly and quickly performing their deadly task.

Javan imagined he could feel the energy building beneath, readying for the moment when it would be unleashed on peaceful Alderaan. It was now beyond his control.

The green laser shot out at the planet, shattering it into billions of tiny melted pieces. Javan's teeth grinded together as the hot shards scattered into space. He stared at Tarkin, the rage he felt cutting through his insides like a vibroblade. Without even taking time to consider the consequences, he lunged forward and smashed his fist into Tarkin's bony jaw.

In half a heartbeat Vader was yanking Javan off of Tarkin, though the young man somehow managed to kick the Grand Moff hard in the side before he was torn away.

Several stormtroopers rushed to lift Tarkin off of the floor. The Grand Moff glared up at Javan. "Take this Rebel brat to his cell and give him a proper beating. His execution takes place at dawn."

The stormtroopers grabbed Javan and dragged him from the room. As they reached the lift, Tarkin could be heard speaking.

"Lord Vader, I hope that in the future you will be quicker than that," he spat reproachfully.

"Age must be affecting my reflexes as much as it is yours," Vader replied dryly.

Javan might have laughed had the situation not been so dire. He was brutally treated all the way back to his cell. By the time the stormtroopers finished with him he could no longer identify one single place where he was in pain. His whole body was one big bruise. The stormtroopers exited the cell, giving him one last kick for good measure.

When the last Imperial had gone and the door closed, Javan attempted to push himself off of the floor. Blood dripped from his mouth as he rested on his hands and knees. They were gone. The people, his relatives, Bail. His father. Every one of them dead.

"Father," he moaned, grabbing at his hair. A hoarse wail escaped his throat. He couldn't remember if he'd had a chance recently to tell his father how much he loved him. Now he would never again have the opportunity.

Javan slammed his fists into the floor and then violently grabbed at his hair once more. "Nooo!" he screamed. He collapsed against the metal floor, moaning and screaming wildly with pain beyond pain.

The guard outside Javan's cell retreated down the corridor in an effort to escape the unearthly cries.

.

* * *

.

Aari watched the stars streak by as the _Silent Blade_continued on its course to Alderaan. Even though the hologram had since been deactivated, she still saw the Alderaanian diplomat's face as he made his final plea for help. It was such a young face for the expression that had been etched on it. There was a maturity there that she often saw in older smugglers and an acceptance that one usually associated with a soldier going to his death. It was unsettling.

The young smuggler glanced over at Vic, who was slipping in and out of sleep. Aari let a tiny grin play at the corners of her lips. He looked so ridiculous with his head swaying back and forth. She wondered which would be more amusing – to wake him up or let him continue sleeping with his mouth wide open. Before she could decide, a noise from the rear of the cockpit distracted her. She looked over her shoulder at the young man from Tatooine. He was cradling the little droid Veethree in his arms as he stared vacantly at the ceiling.

"You all right, Cal?" Aari left her seat and sat down next to the farm hand.

The young man turned to look at Aari. "I'm fine," he replied in a hushed tone. "I just…" He glanced down at the droid and took a deep breath. "I didn't tell you everything. I mean about why I'm taking Veethree to Alderaan."

"I already know. He's carrying important Rebel information." Aari eyed the young man quizzically. "Isn't that the reason? Aren't you trying to join the Rebellion?"

Cal shook his head. "I'm trying to rescue my mother. I'm going to Alderaan because that's the only place I know to start looking for her. _She_ was the Rebel, not me."

Aari nodded. "I can't blame you. I wouldn't want to get involved with the Alliance. They're all nuts." She caught the look Cal was giving her. "Well I'm sure your mother is an exception. But the rest of them are just crazy."

"Sounds like your kind of people," a sleepy voice called from the front of the cockpit.

Aari twisted her neck to face the voice's owner. "When did _you_ wake up?" she asked, a bit more sternly then she'd meant to.

"Take it easy, beautiful," Vic replied with that irritatingly cocky tone that Aari hated. He winked at Cal. "Did I interrupt something?"

Aari felt her cheeks flush slightly. "Why don't you just go back to your nap?" She went back to the pilot's chair and concentrated on the control panel in front of her, ignoring both of the young men.

Vic smiled at Cal. "I think she's starting to regret dragging me along."

Aari held her tongue in check as she scanned the nav computer. She realized that it was time to drop down to sub-light speeds. "We're coming up on Alderaan. Shut your mouth and help me, Vic."

Aari and Vic guided the ship out of lightspeed, preparing to meet with the sight of the stunning planet Alderaan. Aari watched as the stars shortened and became pinpricks. Without warning the ship jolted violently, and Cal could be heard tumbling around the back of the cockpit.

"Hold on!" Aari yelled back to him as she quickly assessed the situation. Where Alderaan was supposed to be, there was instead some kind of meteor shower.

Vic stared out into the rubble. "This isn't on any of the charts…"

"Our position is correct," Aari said quickly, trying to understand exactly what was going on.

"But there's no Alderaan." Vic rubbed his forehead with his palm. "Stars, what happened?"

Cal came up behind Aari. "It's been blown away by the Empire," he murmured, entranced by the shower of rock that had once been a planet.

Aari swallowed her tongue. It wasn't possible, was it? The Empire couldn't destroy an entire planet. It would take more than a thousand Imperial Star Destroyers, and even then, why obliterate a pacifist world?

Vic tapped her on the shoulder. "We've got trouble. See that thing up ahead?"

Aari stared beyond the destruction of the planet and sighted a massive, gray, moon-shaped structure. "That's not supposed to be there," she said, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"It's not _supposed_ to, but it is. By the way, it seems to be pulling us in using a tractor beam."

"_What_?"

Vic nodded gravely. "I guess we really blew it this time. We can't escape the Imps; this ship is way too weak to fight the tractor beam." He lowered his voice, as if the Imperials might hear him. "What do we do with the droid? I mean, if it really is carrying information for the Rebellion…"

Cal stepped forward, drawing himself up to full height in the cramped compartment. "I'm not handing him over. He's the only link I have to my mom right now." His pale blue eyes flashed with determination.

Aari gazed at the farm hand in indecision. If it were left up to her, she'd say to hell with the droid so long as she was set free. She didn't really care much for the Rebellion. They disliked smugglers as much as the Empire, so she had no reason to side with them. On the other hand, she'd promised to get Cal to Alderaan, and she had yet to receive her payment. If getting the credits meant helping the kid find his mother and getting both of them far away from the Empire, then she would do it.

The droid seemed to have its own plans. It buzzed around the cockpit, whistling furiously. Cal grabbed it out of the air and read the side panel.

_That structure ahead of you is the Death Star, a battle station of terrible power. I am carrying the schematics of the station in my memory banks. _All three humans stared at the droid. Its red sensors seemed to stare up at them impatiently._ I would suggest that you find a secure place to hide me until you can return to the ship and escape._

Aari blinked several times. "What does he mean, 'return to the ship?' We're not going anywhere."

Vic laughed mirthlessly. "You tell that to the Imps when they drag us out of here." Aari gave him a cold glance, but Vic continued. "Listen, we're going to be taken prisoner, whether we want to or not. That's the end of it."

"Well you'll forgive me if I'm not quite ready to roll over and die," Aari growled back at him. Vic shook his head and let out an angry, exasperated sigh.

"Maybe we can escape once we're in there," Cal interjected. The quarreling ceased as Aari and Vic both turned to look at him.

"How?" Aari asked. "If it's a battle station, then it's not going to be easy to escape."

The young man shrugged. "I don't know, but it's not doing any good to fight about it now. Wait until we're in our cells."

Aari sank back into her chair and watched as the battle station grew larger in the viewport. "Who are we kidding? We're probably not going to see the outside of that station for a long time. Might as well get used to it, right?" She covered her eyes with both hands and breathed slowly and deeply. Now she was beginning to understand the helplessness the Alderaanian diplomat must have felt as his captors drew near.

The three humans and the little droid sat in silence as the ship continued toward the mammoth steel structure.

.

* * *

.

Luke awoke sometime in the afternoon, realizing that he had dozed off while still fully-clothed. After his failed attempt at accessing his father's most private files, Luke had returned to his quarters and promptly fallen asleep. He'd had an awful nightmare where millions of people suddenly caught fire and began screaming in agony. Even now, as he regained conscious thought, he could still hear the dying screams in a deep corner of his mind.

Shaking his head, the prince stood up and stretched. The ventilation system in his wing of the palace must have been malfunctioning, because the air was hot, and his robes were sticking to him. He stood up and peeled his tunic off as he headed for the refresher. He activated the Holonet on his way over, in case there were any further developments after the Emperor's actions today. He wasn't really paying much attention until he heard the emergency announcement.

_"I repeat: effective immediately, all traffic in the Alderaan system is suspended until further notice. The debris from the planet is too dangerous for regular space travel. Anyone caught violating this order will be dealt with severely."_

Luke spun around and ran back to the Holonet projector. The announcer was a gray-haired naval admiral with hawk's eyes and a distinguished chin. He peered out at the audience with the gravest of expressions.

_"Only an hour ago the planet Alderaan was found to be the base of operations for the Rebellion. The Empire was forced to take the necessary actions to stop the Rebels from escaping. Once more, all traffic in the Alderaan system is suspended until further notice."_

Luke stared into the blue-tinted hologram in utter disbelief. The memory of his nightmare returned full force, and the screams echoed in his soul. The Force was writhing in pain unlike any he had sensed before, and with the pain came a horrifying truth.

_They destroyed it. They destroyed Alderaan._

_But how?_

He felt his heart sink into his stomach as he realized that Leia should have been on Alderaan by now. The strength in his legs chose that moment to leave him, and he gripped the edge of the table for support.

_No. I would have felt it if something had happened to her._

He reached out to find his sister's presence and was relieved to feel the faint throb he knew to be hers. She was safe for now, but he sensed a hint of distress. He prayed she would be all right.

_Leia, I'm here. I'm with you. Stay alive._

_.  
_

* * *

.

Han felt like the galaxy's biggest fool. Leia wasn't the bodyguard, companion, or close relative of the Imperial Princess. She _was_ the Imperial Princess. Leia Naberrie – if that was even her real name – was Princess Ember, and she was Darth Vader's daughter.

_So I guess Prince Shade is the son of Vader_, Han thought wryly. It was no wonder that the Emperor had chosen not to reveal his heirs' heritage to the galaxy. Most citizens of the Empire wouldn't look too fondly on being ruled by the offspring of Lord Vader.

_What have I gotten myself into this time?_

After the _Falcon_ settled in the massive hangar bay, Han noticed that Leia had gone quite pale. She whispered something about millions of voices crying out, but beyond that she remained silent. Whatever pain she had to bear, she was going to bear it alone. Han wondered if he should try to comfort her, but he decided against it. She was more likely to slice his head off with that lightsaber than to accept his help.

The smuggler glanced over at his co-pilot, sharing a look that both understood. If there was a chance of getting out of this station, they would fight to find it. If this was the end, then they would still go down fighting. Chewie growled softly as he clutched his bowcaster. Outside Han could hear people moving near the hatch.

"Chewie, go open the hatch. I don't want them ruining my ship."

As the Wookiee went to release the hatch, Han walked over to the princess. She was sitting with her eyes closed tightly, her fists clenched. "Hey, Leia. Let's not wait for them to come in here and get us."

Leia looked up at Han, her eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears. She nodded, and Han thought he saw the fire begin to return to her face. "All right, Captain Solo. Let's meet them." She stood up and led the way toward the hatch. Han couldn't help smiling a little.

The princess, the smuggler, the Wookiee, and the droids strode down the ramp with as much authority as they could manage. There was a group of stormtroopers waiting near the _Falcon_, and a few officers stood in front of them. One of the officers, a lieutenant by the look of his uniform, stepped forward. Leia pulled off the ring that identified her as Princess Ember and offered it to the lieutenant. He had one of his men perform the verification, and his eyes widened as he realized that this was _the_ Imperial Princess standing before him. He hastily performed the appropriate salute.

"Your Highness, this is most unexpected. If you'll come with me, I'll take you to Lord Vader." The lieutenant extended his arm to show her out of the hangar, but the girl didn't move.

"Lieutenant, just because I am young, that does not mean I am stupid. What do you plan on doing with the rest of my companions?" Leia's piercing gaze bore into the lieutenant. Han could see why she was so powerful for one so young.

The lieutenant seemed unsure. "The Alderaan system is off-limits…"

"Save your lies for someone who believes them. You just don't want anyone escaping to tell the Rebellion about this superweapon."

"My lady, the orders come from Lord Vader," the lieutenant stammered. "He says anyone captured in the system is to be placed in the detention area for questioning."

"Well, I'm giving you new instructions. This crew is not to be harmed." Leia stepped closer to the officer until she was standing mere inches from him. "Do I make myself very clear?" She opened her robes to reveal her lightsaber.

The lieutenant stared at the weapon. "Quite clear, my lady. Now if you'll please come with me."

Han watched as the princess followed the officer out of the hangar. If only he could believe that they would actually refrain from interrogating him. Leia may have intimidated the young lieutenant, but there were several chains of command in a battle station this size, and not all of them would care about the princess's orders.

Another officer came forward, this one a stormtrooper commander. Han remembered enough about the Imperial military hierarchy to recognize the man's rank. This commander was much older than the lieutenant, and he didn't seem at all inclined to follow Leia's new order.

"Take them to the detention area," he ordered. "Keep the droids in the ship, under surveillance. Several stormtroopers surged forward to grab their prisoners. Chewie roared and threw two of the troopers to the ground.

"Stop it, Chewie! It'll be okay." Han gritted his teeth as binders were placed on his wrists. Chewie stopped struggling and let the stormtroopers lead him away. Han gave the commander a cold look before he too was led into the bowels of the Death Star.

.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Detained

Chapter Thirteen: Detained

* * *

"My lord?"

From the center of his enclosed meditation chamber, Darth Vader opened his eyes. Before the officer entered his quarters, he had felt a strong presence aboard the captive ship. Whoever it was, they were doing a very good job blocking him. With a slight mental nudge Vader opened the chamber. Through the black, jaw-like doors the Sith Lord saw a young lieutenant standing nervously with his hands clasped behind his back. The man struggled to keep his composure, and Vader smirked inwardly.

"My lord," the lieutenant began again, "the ship's occupants have been detained, but…"

Vader's eyes narrowed as the man hesitated. "What is the problem, lieutenant?"

The officer squirmed under the Sith's gaze. "It's Princess Ember, my lord…" He trailed off as Vader rose out of the chamber. Gulping down his anxiety, the lieutenant continued. "She's here."

For a few seconds Vader's mind had trouble comprehending what the young man had said. Leia couldn't possibly be aboard the Death Star. She was home on Imperial Center. She was…

She was here on the Death Star, and she was shielding her Force-signature using techniques that he had long ago taught her.

Vader felt a surge of anger ripple through his body. What was Leia doing here? Why had she left home without permission? After a split-second the anger was replaced with worry. Maybe something had happened on Imperial Center. Maybe Luke was hurt.

But that didn't make sense. He would have felt it if anything happened to either of his children. This left no explanation for why Leia was now aboard a space station that was not supposed to exist, a space station that had just obliterated an entire world.

"Where is she now?" he asked the lieutenant suspiciously.

"She's waiting outside your quarters. I didn't have access—"

"That will be all, lieutenant. You may go." With an absent wave of his hand, Vader motioned for the officer to leave. The young man didn't seem at all hesitant to do as the Sith Lord commanded.

After the man had gone and the door shut behind him, Vader turned to the com station mounted on the wall. He activated a link to the detention area, and a middle-aged officer appeared on the screen. The officer came to attention and waved away a guard with whom he had been speaking.

"Lord Vader," he acknowledged, waiting for his to superior to respond.

"How many captives are there?" Vader began without preamble. "And what level are they being kept on?"

The officer answered quickly, as if he'd been expecting this communiqué. "One human male, between twenty-five and thirty standard years. One Wookiee male, age unknown. They're on their way down here, so we don't have identification yet. There were two droids left on the ship, one protocol and one astromech, by the looks of them."

There was an unnerving pause.

"Interrogate the prisoners after they are detained," Vader finally continued. "I want to know who they are and why they were in the Alderaan system."

"Yes, my lord."

The transmission ended abruptly. Vader stood frozen in front of the blank screen as he became acutely aware of the presence outside his quarters. Now that he knew who it was, he attempted once more to break through the shielding.

_Leia._

Vader paused, not sure if there would be a response. He had not met with any resistance this time. Perhaps he should try again—

_Father._

Suddenly the full force of his daughter's presence flooded into his being, and he sensed a rush of emotions pulsing from her. He recognized anger along with confidence. Whatever had brought her here, she was in a righteous fury. She was also suspicious, no doubt of the Death Star and its purpose. As he probed a little deeper, Vader felt an emotion he did not normally associate with Leia. She was hurting, more than she would ever care to show. The instant he picked up on her pain, Leia gave him a mental shove, and her walls went up immediately.

Vader staggered from the force of the deflection. Of course, he should have understood what had happened. Leia had sensed Alderaan's destruction. He had never taught his children how to deal with something of that magnitude.

_There should never have been a reason for them to learn_, an accusing voice whispered in his head. He had the sinking feeling it was his own.

The comlink buzzed, and Vader allowed his eyes to refocus on the wall panel. Staring back at him was Tarkin's shrewd, arrogant face. Vader swallowed his loathing and greeted the man. "What is it?"

If the Grand Moff was offended by the lack of respect the Sith paid him, he didn't show it. "Lord Vader, I feel there is something we ought to discuss. Please come to the council room immediately." As abruptly as the conversation had begun, so did it end. Tarkin terminated the transmission and left Vader in silence once more.

The Dark Lord of the Sith burned with anger. This charade was growing tiresome. Why his master wanted to give Tarkin the illusion of being superior was quite beyond him. He stormed out of his quarters, taking a route that led him away from Leia and toward the council room. He would deal with his daughter later.

.

* * *

.

For someone with such a clumsy grasp of the Force, Aidan Rennal was _fast_.

Mara spun away from the violet blade, avoiding the assassin's aggressive strike. The young woman had to admit she was impressed by Rennal's abilities. His years as an assassin had honed his body into a deadly weapon, and Mara realized with certainty that should he learn to control the Force half as well as she already did, it would be a lethal combination indeed.

That did not mean that he had the upper hand at the moment. Mara allowed herself a tight grin as she danced just beyond the reach of his lightsaber. It was nice to have the advantage in a sparring match, for once.

Rennal took a step back and circled around his prey. Mara noticed his quick glance at the Emperor, who was standing quietly in one corner of the room. The aged man nodded gravely, silently appraising his newest protégé's skills.

After a seemingly calm moment, Rennal brought his weapon to his right hip, holding it parallel to the floor. His eyes narrowed, but otherwise his face remained passive. The bright hue of his saber cast an eerie glow across his body, darkening as it crept toward his face. With the strength and speed of his profession, he charged forward and assaulted Mara with a barrage of blows.

The young Emperor's Hand bent over backward as Rennal's blade sliced through the air where her neck had been. Using the Force to enhance her momentum, Mara landed on the palm of her left hand and kicked up with her legs, clipping Rennal in the chin. As she got back on her feet, she saw Rennal stagger backward from the force of the blow. Surprisingly the look in his eyes was not one of anger. In fact, if Mara had to guess, she'd say it was respect.

In the split second it took her to process that thought, Rennal had regained his composure and moved in to press his attack. He swung, and Mara parried, vaguely aware that he was forcing her into the corner opposite the Emperor. She knew there was no danger, but she didn't particularly feel like being boxed in by a veteran assassin. Rennal stepped forward and pushed his blade against Mara's, watching with grim satisfaction as it came closer to her body.

Mara cocked her head to one side and smiled in return. Without hesitating another moment, she let her entire body drop to the floor. On her way down she scissor-kicked Rennal hard, catching him just behind his right knee. Caught off guard, the man stumbled and fell on his side, losing his grip on his lightsaber. Before he could react further, Mara sprang to her feet and pointed her red saber at his throat. She called Rennal's weapon to her other hand.

"Good," crowed the Emperor. His yellow eyes were alight with an emotion Mara couldn't quite place. "You lasted longer than I expected."

Rennal glowered, waiting for Mara to remove her lightsaber. "An assassin is not someone to be trifled with, Force or no Force."

_And yet I bested you_, Mara thought smugly. She deactivated her blade and offered Rennal a hand. He ignored the gesture and stood up on his own, showing no sign of fatigue.

The Emperor nodded. "Nevertheless, Mara's grasp of the Force exceeds yours. Control is what we must teach you first."

"Now?" Rennal asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Later," the Emperor said with finality. "I have other matters which require my attention." He turned toward the door, beckoning Mara to join him. The girl gave Rennal a quick glance and tossed him his lightsaber before slipping through the door behind her master.

The moment the door slid closed, a quiet beeping attracted Mara's attention. Her master pulled a tiny holoproj from his sleeve and activated it. A miniature hologram of Captain Cryger appeared.

"Speak," the Emperor commanded.

The captain began without preamble. "Grand Moff Tarkin wishes to inform you that the princess is with him in the Alderaan system."

If possible, the Emperor's face grew darker. "Tell him I shall contact him when I am in more secure quarters."

"Yes, Excellency." The holo vanished.

Mara turned to her master and bowed her head. "Shall I take my leave of you, my master?"

"Go," the Emperor said with a small wave. "The assassin droids are ready for you. Do your exercises and meditate."

"Yes, my master." Mara waited for the royal guards to arrive at his side before she left the Emperor. She stared at the door to Rennal's quarters for a moment, then headed toward her own rooms.

_I hope Leia is all right_, Mara thought as she reached her private sparring room. She had seen Grand Moff Tarkin once, very recently. She was in her usual courtier disguise, and like most people, Tarkin had assumed she was a harlot whose services could be bought. The way Tarkin had looked at her made her feel unclean. With the memory of that day still strong, she prayed that Leia, who at nineteen already possessed a mature beauty, would be safe. The question now was whether or not Mara should tell Luke what she had heard.

.

* * *

.

"Ah, Lord Vader."

Tarkin did not stand up from his chair, nor did he offer any sort of military salute. He looked down at the comm unit in front of him and switched it off, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips. Vader felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle at the man's arrogance. Tarkin was hiding something, and if Vader had his way he would choke it out of him. Unfortunately the Emperor did not feel Tarkin was so expendable.

"Tarkin," the Dark Lord greeted in reply, deliberately omitting the man's title. "What is the purpose of this meeting?"

Tarkin's smile spread. "Surely you have been informed of the two ships caught by our tractor beams. Your daughter was one of the passengers aboard a Corellian frigate captured approximately three minutes before the planet was destroyed. I wonder if you have had a chance to see her yet."

Vader felt his eyes narrow dangerously. He hated that Tarkin was one of the few men allowed to know that the royal children were in fact _his_ children. "My daughter is none of your concern."

The smile disappeared from Tarkin's gaunt face, leaving a cold, calculating stare that would have chilled any other man. Instead, Vader's rage only grew stronger.

"Lord Vader, your nineteen-year-old daughter is aboard a top secret battle station under my command. She is supposed to be on Imperial Center. When exactly _does_ she become my concern?"

Vader opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the governor.

"I find it a strange coincidence that she should arrive here at close to the same time as us. I find it stranger still that, according to the log, the ship was docked in Aldera for two standard hours." Tarkin raised one eyebrow. "You should pay more attention to your daughter's business."

"Do not presume to tell me what to do, Tarkin. I have but to speak with her to discover the truth behind all this." Vader started to turn away.

"Oh, don't bother. I already know the important details of her visit."

Vader halted and took two deep breaths before speaking. "What have you learned?"

"Well, as you had long suspected, Senator Organa was indeed a part of the Rebel Alliance—"

"We established that before Alderaan was destroyed. This is not new information, Tarkin."

The governor sniffed at the interruption. "As I was saying, Lord Vader, I was quite distressed when I learned that the princess met with Organa in his palace in Aldera. I find it most interesting that she was able to get onto the planet without identification. Apparently she spoke directly with Organa. She used the name 'Naberrie,' which my sources say was the birth name of a Naboo senator that Organa befriended some years ago. I don't pretend to know how your daughter came across this name or how she connected it with Bail Organa, but it suggests that the princess and the senator have been scheming together for quite some time."

The Dark Lord smiled inwardly, grateful that Tarkin did not realize the Naberrie name was Leia's heritage, not her alias. Only Vader knew the true reason why Organa would have recognized Leia and welcomed her onto Alderaan, and that had little to do with Rebel scheming. No, there was no plot here.

Yet that still didn't explain why Leia had left Imperial Center in secret and traveled to the homeworld of a man who had quietly opposed the Empire since its beginning. She couldn't have discovered his role in her birth, could she? Vader had made Bail Organa swear on Padmé's memory and on all that he held dear that he would never tell anyone of the events on Polis Massa. Vader had made it quite clear that betrayal would be punished. The Prince Consort seemed too wise a man to go back on his word.

But if Organa had kept silent, then what other reason did Leia have to go to Alderaan?

Tarkin's comm unit beeped, and he reached out to answer it, his eyes watching the Dark Lord the entire time. "Yes?"

The officer on the other end of the link began to speak, but Vader was no longer paying attention. He sensed something…

The screeching of metal and gears drowned out the comm unit as the doors to the council room slid open faster than they'd been designed to. Standing dead center in the entrance was a cloaked figure no more than one and a half meters tall. For one moment, Vader forgot his worries as the familiar presence washed over him, and he nearly smiled.

Leia removed the dark hood of her robes, her brown eyes staring not at Vader, but at the gaunt man behind him. "Grand Moff Tarkin," she stated coolly, her hands folded in front of her.

A flash of insight told the Dark Lord that if there was anyone who could get the better of Tarkin, it was Leia. Was it the Force that told him this? Maybe it was the fact that his daughter's tone was the same one Padmé had used so many times in the political arena.

Tarkin stood and bowed. "Princess Ember. Or should I call you Princess Leia? How delightful to have you with us."

Leia took a few steps forward, not once looking at Vader. "You know who my father is. But how do you know my true name?"

The grand moff smiled coldly. "Normally I would not tell, but it is of little consequence here. When you met with the Alderaanian diplomats you were devoid of your usual shroud. I know your father is not the type to consort with young women, so I put the pieces together and concluded you were the Imperial Princess, unmasked, so to speak. Lord Vader referred to you by your real name at that meeting. It was not hard to figure out the rest."

Leia smirked. "You now know what few others know. I'm afraid I'll have to kill you."

Vader felt Tarkin's alarm. The older man took a step backward. "You wouldn't. Not here."

The princess shrugged. "I spoke in jest, my dear governor. Why would I want to kill you?" For some reason, Vader had difficulty believing that Leia's words were completely honest. Leia approached the council table. "We are on the same side, governor."

"We are."

"And as your ally and the future ruler of the Empire, I ask you to release the crew of the ship I came on. They have done nothing illegal in coming to the Alderaan system, and I would hate for them to be interrogated, abused, or punished."

The silence that followed was deafening.

_Why, Father?_

Vader jerked his head toward Leia, but she was still staring at Tarkin.

_Why did they destroy Alderaan? Why did you allow it?_

Tarkin gestured for Leia to take a seat, which she did after a short pause. "Your Highness," the moff said slowly, "it will be quite impossible to release your friends. At this time they are under suspicion of Rebel involvement, as is anyone found in this system."

_Why?_

The Dark Lord closed his eyes momentarily. _It had to be done. Peace and security must be maintained. Alderaan was a threat._

_Alderaan was peaceful! They had no weapons!_

_Alderaan was a haven for the Rebellion, and if killing Bail Organa stops the plague of revolution from spreading across the galaxy, then so be it!_

The Imperial Princess rose from her seat. "Then I'm afraid we've reached an impasse. Grand Moff Tarkin, it was a pleasure. If you would please arrange for transportation to Imperial Center, it would be appreciated. I am returning home."

Without another word, the young woman turned her back on the council room and used the Force to close the door behind her.

"She's a rare beauty, Lord Vader," Tarkin admitted. "A fine young woman who—"

Vader made sure that the grand moff could not finish that last sentence. His eyebrows narrowed as his fingertips closed in a pinching gesture. There was so much he could do right now, with Tarkin at his mercy. He could lift him in the air, see him squirm helplessly in his grasp…

The Sith sighed as he released his grip on Tarkin's windpipe. The grand moff slumped in his chair, clutching at his throat. "You…you…" he sputtered.

"Don't waste precious oxygen attempting to threaten me, Tarkin. I care little for your games or your political maneuvering." The Dark Lord turned away and opened the council room doors. As he exited the room he spoke over his shoulder.

"Stay away from my daughter, or the next time I'll not be so forgiving."

.

* * *

.

In the dim light of his training room, the Imperial Prince sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed in concentration. With slow, precise movements, he placed his hands on the floor beside each knee and began to push his body up into a handstand. As he reached an almost perfectly vertical position, he stretched out with the Force to lift two dormant assassin droids in the air. He removed one hand from the ground and held it perpendicular to his body. The assassin droids began to dance around each other like puppets held up by strings.

_Luke._

His concentration wavered. That was Leia's voice; he was as certain of that as he was of his own existence. But there was something strange about it…

_Leia's face appeared in his mind's eye amidst a hazy blue-gray background. Tears ran freely from her eyes, and Luke could hear the crackle of electricity and the rumble of destruction somewhere in the distance._

_"Luke!" His sister screamed, her features twisted in pain. "Help me!"_

"Leia!" His eyes flew open as he collapsed on the floor. Luke clutched his head between his hands for a moment, willing himself to remain calm even as his heart and mind raced. _What just happened?_

Luke called his tunic to him and pulled it over his head as he rose from the floor and made his way to his living quarters. He lay down on a sleep couch and breathed in and out until finally his heart rate slowed. The vision had been far less detailed than the ones he was accustomed to, but at the same time Luke sensed a far greater urgency. Leia would soon be in grave danger. Perhaps she already was. He had to find her.

The comlink at his waist beeped, and Luke reached for it warily. "Shade," he answered.

"Luke? Are you all right?"

The prince managed a small smile. "Not quite, Mara."

"I'm on my way to your quarters."

Luke opened his mouth to object, but something in Mara's tone stopped him. He looked down at his sweat-drenched clothing and shrugged. "You know the security code."

"Jade out."

Luke let his comlink drop to the floor as he rolled onto his stomach. The vision and his sister's cries still lingered in the back of his mind. He'd never been affected quite like this before. Mara must have sensed his reaction through the Force. He hadn't realized their connection was strong enough for her to pick up on his emotions so quickly and easily.

After several moments the door to his room slid open, and Mara, looking decidedly disheveled, ran in. "Luke!" she exclaimed as she hurried over to the sleep couch. "What's going on?"

Luke pushed himself up into a seated position and looked up at Mara. She was wearing a black, sleeveless jumpsuit. Her red-gold hair, which was usually pulled back in a tight braid, fell freely about her face and onto her bare shoulders. It appeared that she too was in the middle of a training session. Luke took a deep breath to settle his suddenly queasy stomach. Marasat down beside him, her green eyes looking on expectantly. "Well?" she said.

"I…it was…" Luke trailed off, his gaze falling to the floor. He'd never told anyone but Leia about his visions. The less he revealed to Mara, the better. "Leia's in trouble," he finished simply.

"Trouble? What kind of trouble?"

"I don't know." Luke put his face in his hands and drew in a shuddering breath. How could he explain?

Mara reached over and gently touched his shoulder. Luke could feel her hesitancy, even a hint of surprise. Mara had never known a family. She was unfamiliar with affection. Despite his fear for Leia's safety, Luke felt a pang of pity for the girl sitting next to him. Without thinking, he placed one hand over hers.

"What do you think you're doing, Shade?" Mara jerked her hand out from under Luke's and stood up.

Luke sat there in bewilderment, surprised by the use of his Sith name. "I…you…" He sighed. "I give up. You're worse than Leia."

He expected Mara to come back with a biting retort, so he was startled when a worried look flashed across the girl's face. The prince frowned as he realized what that look meant.

"Mara," he said sternly, rising from the couch as he grabbed her arm. "Where is she?"

Mara's eyes widened. "The Emperor—"

"I don't care about the Emperor! Tell me the truth! What do you know?"

Mara stared up at Luke in indecision. She tried to twist out of his grasp, her expression resembling that of a caged gundark. Luke held firm, never leaving her gaze.

"Mara," he said, his tone softer than before. He pulled her face close to his. "_Please_. I have to go to her. I have to _help_ her."

The girl tensed up for a second, then let out a small sigh. "She's in the Alderaan system."

Luke blinked. "Alderaan? But it was destroyed."

"Grand Moff Tarkin is there as well. They must be on a Star Destroyer, patrolling the system for stray vessels."

Luke let go of Mara's arm. "Somehow I doubt that's the only reason Tarkin is there. I sense something more."

"I don't sense anything."

The Imperial Prince gave his most critical look. "Yes you do. How long are you going to pretend that everything is as it should be, that nothing in your world is wrong?"

Mara's green eyes darkened. "I never said nothing was wrong. You assume too much, _my lord_."

Luke sighed and sank down onto his sleep couch. "Don't call me that," he said quietly, suppressing a shudder.

"Luke—"

"You should probably get back to your training. You won't tell the Emperor that I know about Leia, will you?"

"No."

"Good. Thanks." Luke managed a tight smile. Mara returned it, her eyes betraying the anger she still felt.

"I guess I'll see you later," she said.

"Yeah." Luke offered a polite wave as she slipped out of his room.

Once Mara was gone, Luke stood up and returned to his training quarters. The only other door in the room led to a small closet. Luke opened it and pulled out a dark brown jumpsuit and hooded cloak. Reaching toward the back of the closet, his fingers grasped a spare lightsaber. Luke pulled it out and hooked it onto the right side of his belt, just in case. He made sure his own saber hung securely at his left hip.

He'd made up his mind, then. As soon as night fell on Imperial Center, he would steal one of the Emperor's ships and fly to the Alderaan system.

_I'm coming, Leia._

_.  
_


	15. Chapter Fourteen: The Prison Level

Chapter Fourteen: The Prison Level

* * *

Leia was not accustomed to letting anyone but her father tell her what she could and could not do. After nineteen years of life, she certainly wasn't going to start by letting Tarkin tell her that Captain Solo and Chewbacca would not be freed. She couldn't say that she particularly liked the cocky starpilot, but she _had_ paid him, and she _had_ dragged him into this situation. She might as well rescue him. But first she needed to stop by the _Falcon_ to collect her belongings.

Making sure her hood properly concealed her face, the princess entered the hangar and approached the two stormtroopers standing at the end of the open hatch. They were the only guards in the hangar. Leia supposed there were security cameras scattered throughout, but those didn't worry her too much. Rather than identify herself as Princess Ember, Leia decided to practice a little.

"I need to board this vessel," she said with force, waving her hand slightly across the troopers' field of vision.

Both troopers turned to one another and nodded their white-helmeted heads in unison. "You need to board this vessel," they replied together.

Leia grinned under the shadow of her hood. "Thank you," she said as she walked up the ramp.

"You're welcome."

She entered the ship and listened for movement. There was none. "See-Threepio?" she called out. "Artoo-Detoo?"

"Mistress Leia! Oh, thank the Maker!" came the fussy droid's voice from what Leia assumed was the cargo bay.

Leia followed the sound of Threepio's rejoicing until she reached the cargo bay door. Upon opening the door, she saw the golden droid standing next to his astromech companion. Artoo beeped an excited greeting of his own, but they remained where they were. Leia quickly understood why: they each had restraining bolts attached to them. She ignited her lightsaber, hoping to slice them off as best she could. Hopefully the burnt bolts wouldn't scramble the droids' circuits.

"Oh goodness, Mistress Leia, this was not _my_ fault!" If possible, Threepio cringed at the sight of the lightsaber.

The young woman couldn't help laughing a little. "No, Threepio, I'm removing the restraining devices." She came closer. "Now just hold still." The blue blade sheared through the bolt, leaving only the burnt base still attached. "I'll clean that off later," she said absently as she turned to do the same to Artoo.

Free of their electronic bonds, the two robots looked almost giddy. They followed their new mistress to the corridor nearest the open hatch. Out of earshot of the guards, Leia turned to face the droids. "There is a control room of some kind overlooking this hangar," she informed them. "I noticed it when we first arrived. We can use the computer in there to locate the tractor beam that's holding the ship here. I'll take you there, but I'm not going to stay."

"But Mistress Leia—"

"Just wait a minute, Threepio. I'm going to rescue Captain Solo and Chewie. Artoo, I'll need you to find out where they are. Wait until I return for you."

"Yes, of course, Mistress Leia."

"You can call me Leia," the princess said irritably. "It would be a lot quicker."

The protocol droid cocked his head to one side, his expression – if it could be called that – one of puzzlement.

"Never mind." Leia reached out through the Force, making sure that the two stormtroopers were still the only people in the hangar. "I want you to ignore the guards outside. I'll deal with them, got it?"

Threepio nodded, Artoo chirped.

"Let's go."

The princess and her droids marched down the ramp and continued past the guards without stopping.

"Hey! Where are you going?" One of the troopers leveled his blaster at Leia. The trio stopped.

Without facing the man, Leia spoke. "The droids are on the ship, and I was never here." Then the trio began to walk again.

"The droids are on the ship, and you were never here," repeated the first trooper.

"She was never here?" The second trooper tapped his helmet.

"Nope."

"Oh."

Leia grinned as the stormtroopers resumed their post. She loved that trick.

.

* * *

.

See-Threepio had never seen anyone with abilities quite like his new mistress, not in all his time as a protocol droid. When they made it to the hangar control room, there were two officers and one guard on duty. They quickly realized that Mistress Leia was not on their side, and they pulled out their weapons. What happened next was something Threepio could not explain with his present programming. Mistress Leia raised her hands in the air, then thrust them forward as though pushing against a wall. The two officers and the guard flew through the air and crashed into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. They crumpled to the floor, unmoving. "Oh dear," the tall droid muttered as he followed his mistress to the control panel. "Did you do that, Mistress Leia?"

"Yes," she replied, guiding Artoo over to the terminal. "I used the Force."

"The Force? I have heard of the Force, but I was given to believe it was part of a dead religion."

His mistress scowled at him. Artoo chirped informatively.

"Oh, I see," Threepio said as his companion explained the basics of the Force and the Jedi Knights who had used it. "You know quite a lot for a mechanic."

Artoo whirred a reply.

"I know exactly that which I am programmed to know, you vertically-challenged wastebasket."

Another string of beeps.

"The knowledge of colorful language is part of my etiquette programming. They are words one must not use in polite conversation."

"Would you two give it a rest?" Mistress Leia glared at the droids. "Artoo, find that cell."

After a moment, Artoo found it. Threepio translated. "Level five, detention block AA-23. I'm afraid a specific cell number is not given."

Mistress Leia nodded her head. "That will have to do. Stay here. I'll be back shortly."

"Mistress, I beg your pardon, but what if we are discovered before you return?"

His mistress smiled. "Lock the door, and pray to the Maker that they don't blast through." She disappeared from view as the door slid shut behind her.

Threepio looked down at Artoo. "That isn't very reassuring."

Artoo groaned in agreement.

.

* * *

.

Using Sith cloaking techniques, Leia was able to make it to a turbolift that would take her to the detention area. When the lift halted at level five, the doors parted, and five men turned to face her. She thought about using a Force-push on them, but there were almost twice as many as in the control room. Her control was not strong enough for that. For a moment the five men stared at Leia like she was a krayt dragon on Kamino. One of the men, a lieutenant by the look of his insignia, raised his eyebrows at her entrance.

"I wasn't notified of any new arrivals," he said pointedly.

Leia felt her heart rate pick up speed. Now what?

"I'm here to interrogate the Wookiee and his human companion," she replied quickly, thankful for the voluminous hood of her robes. "Lord Vader's orders."

The lieutenant put his hand on the comm unit next to him. "I wasn't told anyone was coming down here. I'll have to clear it." He leaned over the unit, fingers about to press the switch.

Without thinking, Leia drew her lightsaber and ignited it. "I don't think so."

It was surprising how quickly they pulled out their blasters and opened fire. Leia rolled forward, deflecting laser bolts as she emerged into a crouch and slashed through the lieutenant's blaster. He tried to kick her, but she held the blade vertical and pressed upward, cutting deep into the man's leg. He fell forward, clutching at his wound. Leia swiped her saber to the side, catching the man across the throat, and he let out a desperate gasp as he collapsed to the floor. Leia ducked behind the first console and drew the Force to her, trying desperately to summon the dark side. She needed to take hold of her anger. _Hate them_, she willed herself. She called energy to her legs and kicked up into a high back flip over the console.

Two of the black-armored troopers ran at her, guns blazing. A bolt caught her in the shoulder, and she groaned as it seared through her flesh. That was too deep for comfort. For some reason Leia had never thought her opponents would hit their target. She felt a tremor of anger ripple through her, and she deflected the oncoming lasers back to their owners, hitting both troopers directly in the chest. She could feel the Force with more clarity now, but the real darkness was still dangling just beyond reach. If she didn't grasp it, she could die here.

_They destroyed Alderaan…they deserve this!_

A sixth man, this one an officer, came running down a corridor with a larger blaster rifle. Leia rolled behind a console and called one of the downed guards' guns to her free hand. How dare he try to sneak up on her like that! She let out a fierce cry as she fired the weapon with precision, catching the man four times in the abdomen. He tumbled down the short flight of steps at the end of the corridor.

Leia had never fought against anyone outside of a sparring room. Using her lightsaber and her skills against Imperial officers and soldiers was not something she'd done before. It was frightening and yet so exhilarating! She was starting to get that heady feeling she experienced whenever she started to plunge into the Force's dark energies. She was doing it!

_Just a little more…_

The princess leaped over another console and slashed her saber in a downward arc at the two remaining troopers. The blade caught one man in the arm, the other in the side. Both crashed to the floor, their cauterized wounds filling the air with a putrid, burnt odor. In the rush of her momentum, Leia stabbed the first guard through the chest and skewered the last guard through the wound in his side. His helmet fell off, and she watched his eyes roll back in his head as she stepped away. The rage in her blood began to fade at the sight.

The only sound in the detention area was the hum of her lightsaber, the quiet beeping of the undamaged computer consoles, and her own heavy breathing. She wiped the sweat off her brow with the sleeve of her robe. It was eerie, the way the whites of that man's eyes had glared back at her as though she had done something wrong. She felt a strong desire to get away from his vacant stare. Leia stumbled over another guard's body as she backed away from the glaring corpse. She looked down at the second body, grateful that the dead man's black visor had fallen over his eyes. It made him look less human, more machinelike.

Leia turned toward the nearest computer console to find the cell that Han and Chewie were in. One of the dead officers gazed back at her. Her stomach seemed to roll around inside of her. The smuggler would have killed those men had he been in her position, wouldn't he? There was nothing wrong with self defense.

_Call it what you will…that wasn't just self-defense_, an ugly voice whispered quietly in her mind.

_Shut up._

Leia reached the computer and found Han's cell on the list of recent arrivals. _2187_, it read. She spoke the numbers in her head, fighting the nausea that had crept up on her. _I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine._

She started to jog down the cell bay, scanning the numbers on the doors. Twenty-one eighty-four, eighty-five, eight-six…

Twenty-one eighty-seven.

Leia opened the door and was met by two pairs of shocked eyes. She lowered the hood of her cloak.

"What took you so long?" Han Solo asked, scowling as he sat up straight.

Leia put on a confident face. "Sorry, Captain Solo. I couldn't find an escape vessel that I really liked." She hooked her lightsaber on her belt. "So I settled on that hunk of junk you call a ship."

"Watch you mouth." But he grinned as he said it. He turned to the Wookiee. "Come on, Chewie. We're gettin' out of here."

.

* * *

.

Darth Vader sat in his private chamber, mulling over the unexpected encounter with his daughter. Her anger at Alderaan's destruction had surprised him almost as much as her sudden appearance in Tarkin's council room. He didn't like surprises; they usually went hand in hand with vulnerability. Vader refused to be vulnerable.

He'd ordered one of his lieutenants to summon Princess Ember, but no one had seen her since her stormy exit from the council room. So Vader told the lieutenant to inform him when the princess's ship was ready to depart. He would speak to her before she left and find out why she'd left home without his permission. It was too soon for her to behave so boldly. The twins were not ready to challenge the Emperor.

Leia had always been the more temperamental of his two children, but even so she'd had trouble using the dark side for long periods of time. What had been a quick and easy path for Vader to follow proved to be a long and laborious journey for Leia. It had always been in his children's natures, especially Leia's, to question everything, even the dark side of the Force. He remembered an instance many years before when he'd explained that the Sith relied on their passion for their strength, meaning they used aggressive emotions to fuel the dark side. Leia had asked him if love was one of those emotions.

_"It can be," Vader replied after pondering her question for a moment. "Love and hate are opposite sides of the same coin. It is a powerful emotion, one which can lead to greater strength in the dark side."_

_Leia had eyed him curiously. "It doesn't feel like that for me. Like hate, I mean." Her voice had sounded so old and sad when she spoke. It was disconcerting in an eight-year-old._

Quite simply, Leia was afraid of her power. She continuously shied away from the Force's dark energies, potent as they were, because she was terrified that she would lose the ability to love. Her fears were completely unfounded, of course. Vader loved his children, and the only being stronger than him with the dark side was his master. He'd tried more than once to explain this to Leia, but though she said she understood, he knew she inwardly resisted his reasoning.

Vader clenched his fist. It was that damned nursemaid! She was the problem. He'd been foolish to let some stranger care for his children, he could see that now. She'd been trustworthy and reliable, but something of her ways must have rubbed off on Luke and Leia. It was little wonder that their training was lagging.

He felt the surge in the Force a moment before the lieutenant hailed him on the comm. It was an angry surge: powerful, but brief. It reminded him of a flickering candle. It sputtered to life, faded, then returned again. After a moment it went out completely. As he reached for his comm unit, Vader felt Leia's familiar presence. What was going on?

"Yes?" he said expectantly,

"My lord, there's been a disturbance in the level five detention area. No one is responding."

"Send the men closest to the prison level to see what the trouble is."

"But my lord—"

"Did I not make myself clear, lieutenant?"

"Y-Yes, my lord, but the soldiers closest to detention block AA-23 are returning from preliminary interrogation. They have three prisoners with them."

"It doesn't matter. Tell them to take their prisoners with them to deal with the disturbance."

"Yes, my lord."

Vader terminated the transmission, glaring at the sterile wall of his chambers. He had a bad feeling about this.

.

* * *

.

Han Solo didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see anyone in his entire life. Having served in the Imperial Navy, he'd heard rumors about interrogation. He did not feel like experiencing it firsthand. The moment that blue lightsaber came through the open cell door, he felt like jumping for joy. Instead, he kept his cool. No reason to make Leia – Princess Ember – think he was glad to see her.

Now they emerged from the cell and looked up and down the corridor. "Only one way out of here," Han observed. "You took care of the guards?"

Leia nodded, unhooking her lightsaber. "Someone's coming. I wondered how long it would take them to figure out what happened." She tossed Han a blaster and gave the dead officer's blaster rifle to Chewbacca.

"Not long, I guess." Han hefted the gun in his hand. He'd really had enough excitement for one day. And he really wished he had his own weapon.

Leia ignited her blade. "I sense seven people. That's more than twice our number."

Chewie growled, shaking the rifle in the air. Han smiled. "He says if you count him as two, the odds are seven to four." The smuggler began to walk toward the end of the corridor, turning back to wink at Leia. "But I never cared much for odds."

Leia and Chewie followed him down the corridor. They entered the detention area's hub and made their way across the dead bodies. "We'll wait for them here and surprise them," Leia ordered, raising her lightsaber over her head. "Any second now."

Han turned to the row of turbolifts. He wouldn't normally take orders from a teenage girl, but given the circumstances, he decided to hold his tongue.

Most normal people would have taken the lift to reach the prison level, and that was why Han was facing those same lifts when the wall to his right exploded. In a flash of light and a cloud of ozone, four stormtroopers barreled through a jagged hole in the wall, guns blazing. Leia's reaction was amazingly fast. She had already turned to face the oncoming soldiers, her lightsaber weaving a brilliant path through the smoky air as she swatted away bolt after bolt. Only a split-second behind her, Han leveled his blaster at the troopers and shot with ease, catching two of them square in the chest. Chewie roared, firing his rifle at a third trooper. The man ducked and fired at the great Wookiee. Leia threw herself in its path, her lightsaber catching the bolt. The deflected laser struck the trooper in the forehead.

Han saw only one stormtrooper remaining. "Leia, we're missing three guys here…"

"I know!" she shouted over the fourth trooper's blaster fire. "I can sense them…but they don't feel the same as these troopers…"

Chewie's rifle found its mark, and the fourth trooper went down. Han aimed his weapon at the hole in the wall. "Come out! We've got you outnumbered!" It was sort of true.

"Don't shoot! We're not Imps!" came a voice from inside the smoke.

"And why should we trust you?"

"Solo?" came another voice, this one female. "It can't be you!"

Han faltered at the sound of the voice. It sounded vaguely familiar. "Who are you?" he asked after regaining the ability to speak. No one knew he was here. How in the nine Corellian hells…

The pretty, albeit disheveled, blonde woman who stepped through the hole was not only familiar, but an acquaintance of Han's. "Aari Zalash!"

The woman smiled, hazel eyes lighting up with relief. "Han Solo. You're the last person I would expect to find here. I thought you didn't tangle with Imps."

Han grinned lazily. "Surprise."

Two human males emerged from the hole behind Aari. One of them was about Leia's age, the other a bit older. The latter reached the edge of the fading ozone cloud, and Han was able to clearly make out his face. "Vic?"

"In the flesh," the man replied, his voice weary but relieved. "Thanks for not shooting us." He raised his hands in a defensive gesture, and it was then that Han realized all three newcomers had binders on their wrists.

"Uh, I think we can do something about those," Han said, glancing over in Leia's direction. "Your Worship, would you do the honors?"

Leia glared at him for a second, then moved toward the prisoners. They were staring at her in awe as she sliced through their binders.

The younger man rubbed his wrists absently. "I didn't even feel any heat."

Leia looked over at him. "That's the way lightsabers were designed. No heat, but they can cut through anything, except another lightsaber blade."

"I thought only Jedi used lightsabers," the man mused. "And Lord Vader," he added.

At the mention of the girl's father, Han noticed Leia's expression grow dark. He decided he'd better change the subject. "What are you two doing here? And who's the kid?"

Aari cocked her head toward the tall boy, who was frowning at the way Han had referred to him. "This is Cal Nightrunner from Tatooine. We were taking him to Alderaan."

_What a coincidence._ "Tatooine, huh? I was going to head that way after my stop on Imp Center."

"You were on Imp Center?" Aari asked, her tone suggesting that Han's actions had been something akin to suicidal.

"I had some loose ends to tie up. I'd probably be shipping for Jabba the Hutt right now if Tiras hadn't gone traitor and turned me over to the Empire."

"Tiras? A traitor?"

Han narrowed his eyes critically. "Why do you think you got ambushed at Rodia? Tiras was a slime, and he got what he deserved." He saw Aari and Vic exchange a significant glance. "Anyway, I got some unexpected business." Han jerked a thumb at Leia. "We just came from Alderaan."

"What a coincidence," Aari replied. She cast a curious look at Leia. "And who _is_ your friend?"

Han smirked. There was something surreal about introducing the daughter of Darth Vader to his fellow smugglers in the bowels of an Imperial battle station. "This is Leia," he stated simply. He didn't think Her Royal Highness, the Princess Ember, would be the type of acquaintance Aari and her friends were looking for. Better to keep it simple for now.

An awkward silence filled the room as the prisoners glanced around at the dead Imperials strewn across the floor. "Your work?" Vic asked, his eyes on Leia.

"Some of it," she replied as she stepped over to Han's side. He hadn't noticed how small she was, what with that planet-sized personality of hers. She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. "We should go before more troops arrive." Her voice was eerily calm, but Han could sense the urgency beneath it.

"I'll second that motion," Aari spoke up, exchanging a meaningful look with the princess. Funny how women seemed to bond with each other no matter what the situation was.

A quiet beep issued from the comlink on Leia's belt. She brought it to her lips. "Yes?"

"Oh thank the Maker, you're all right! Mistress Leia, I tried to contact you earlier about the cell number, but you didn't respond. It is twenty—"

"Thanks, Threepio. I got it already."

"Oh, well then…what _is_ it Artoo? What? Slow down, don't blow a circuit…_who's_ here?"

The group of prisoners listened intently as a series of whistles came across the comlink. "What's going on, Threepio?" Leia asked quickly. "Who is it?"

"Why, a person of great importance, Mistress Leia. I've known him for as long as—"

Han growled a few Huttese curses and grabbed the comlink from Leia. "Just tell us who it is, you damn stupid droid!"

"Certainly, Captain Solo, but I beg you to refrain from calling me stupid. I am fluent in over—"

"_Threepio_."

"Yes, Mistress Leia. The man Artoo found is Javan Madai, one of our old masters from Alderaan."

"Javan Madai! He's here?" Everyone turned to stare at the tall boy, Cal, who had just cried out. "Where is he?" the boy continued, paying no attention to the others.

"Level six, detention block A-17, cell block 1138." There was a slight pause. "Oh dear! It says here he's scheduled to be terminated."

"He was the one in the message," Aari murmured.

Han raised one eyebrow. "What message?"

"If he's here, my mom might be here, too," Cal reasoned, his eyes bright with hope.

Han raised the other eyebrow. "What message?"

"We have to free him," Aari added.

"_What message?_" Han shouted this time.

Aari glared at him while Leia and Vic smiled in amusement. "Cool your thrusters, Solo, I'm getting there. He's a Rebel. He sent a message with his droid, the droid ended up with Cal, and no we're here. Any questions?"

_A few…_

"Yes," Leia broke in before Han could say anything. "Do you all know how to use a blaster?"

"Why?" Cal asked, toying with a blaster he'd picked up off the ground.

"Because we're about to have some more company." Leia ignited her lightsaber.

Han and the others turned toward the turbolifts. The lights at the top were moving toward the number five. The smuggler rubbed his jaw with one hand. "This just isn't my day," he muttered.

"Back through that hole!" Leia exclaimed as the lift slowed.

"We don't even know where it goes!" Han yelled.

"But we do!" Aari answered. "Come on!"

The four males followed Leia and Aari through the jagged hole in the wall and found themselves in a long, gray corridor. Five meters away it forked, and they turned left and hid around the corner. Behind them they heard the sound of the elevator door opening and boots pounding their way into the detention area. The six escapees stopped dead in the hallway and listened.

"Maybe they went down one of the cell bays," one stormtrooper said.

"Look, sir! Someone blasted through the wall!"

"Take five men, and check it out."

"Yes, sir."

Han gritted his teeth. "Damn. They couldn't have made it easy for us, could they?"

Vic offered a cocky smile. "Do they ever?" He peered around the corner, then turned back. 'Um, they're coming."

"In here," the farmboy, Cal, said quietly, pointing at a door that appeared to be a storage closet. He opened it, and the escapees squeezed inside.

Han found himself pressed against Chewie's backside and Leia's front. He held his hands perfectly still, lest he cause an incident. "Conveniently placed closet, don't you think?" he commented.

"Quiet," someone commanded.

Outside, the stormtroopers marched past, their footfalls echoing along the corridor. Once they were out of earshot, Han looked down at Leia. He wasn't sure how he felt about being this close to her. "Your Jedi powers telling you anything?"

"I am _not_ a Jedi, Han," she fired back. The lack of space between them seemed to have her on edge. She hadn't used his first name before this. "But no, I don't sense anyone nearby. I used a little diversionary tactic, courtesy of the Force. We can get out of here."

"What do you mean, diversionary tactic? We're inside a closet." Han tried to step toward Chewie, but somehow that seemed to bring him only closer to the princess.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? Doesn't anyone know _anything_ about the Force?"

"Ever since the Jedi turned traitor it hasn't been on most people's to-do lists to learn about the Force, Your Highnessness. The galaxy would rather forget it exists."

Leia's eyes widened for a moment, but then she blew out an exasperated breath. "Fine. The Force has a strong effect on the weak-minded. I made those stormtroopers think we took a right turn and ran down the corridor. In fact, they even think they hear us running."

"Sounds way too convenient."

"Kind of like this storage closet, right?"

Han couldn't help smiling a little. Sith's daughter or not, she was a clever one. "Okay, you win this time." He raised his voice to address the entire group. "Why don't we take a peek?"

Vic was the closest to the door. He lowered his blaster and keyed the door open. He didn't look very excited about being the first one out of the closet, and Han couldn't really blame him. Vic looked both ways before stepping out into the corridor. "It looks okay," he said nervously. "Now what do we do?"

Han looked at Leia and leaned toward her. "Got any strings you can pull?" he asked quietly, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible.

She shook her head, the imperious aura he associated with her replaced with something akin to fatigue. "No," she sighed. "I think it's a little too late for that."

Han nodded, understanding what she had left unspoken. His grip on his blaster tightened. "So what we need is a good old-fashioned escape."

"Exactly."

Vic shifted his balance, clearly concerned by the idea of escaping an Imperial battle station. "And _how_ do we plan on busting out of here? I haven't seen too many exit signs. Come to think of it, I haven't seen any."

"Why don't you can the cynicism, Vic?" Aari crossed her arms, aiming a scathing glare at Vic. "A tractor beam brought all of us here, so turning it off and getting back to our ships is the most logical way to escape."

"Great," Vic shot back. "So all we need to do now is log into a foreign interface, sort through enough data to bury a city, and pinpoint the exact location of the tractor beam. How hard could that be?"

Aari turned on her one-time co-pilot. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you _want_ to stay here and be tortured and killed?"

"No, but—"

Han shook his head and stepped in between Aari and Vic. "Listen, kids, I hate to interrupt, but someone's bound to figure out what happened to us, and I'd rather not be around when they arrive. So if we could wrap this little lovers' spat up soon, that would be wonderful."

Aari's face went red with indignation. "_Lovers'_ spat? Not a chance. You'd have more luck mating a nerf and a gundark."

"Right now that image seems oddly appropriate."

"Watch it, Solo."

Han was about to come back with a particularly fiery retort when Leia placed a stopping hand on his chest and stepped into the midst of the group. He was surprised at how strong such a small woman could be. "Enough," she ordered sharply, her tone that of a seasoned commander rather than a teenage girl of privilege. "I already had my Artoo locate the tractor beam. All I have to do is ask him where it is." She brought the comlink to her lips. "Threepio?"

Static. _Great_, Han thought.

"Threepio?" Leia glared at the comlink. "Where could he be?"

"Great plan," Vic mumbled, echoing Han's sentiments.

"He'll be back," Leia snapped, though Han sensed that she didn't quite believe what she'd said.

"We should rescue Representative Madai, in the meantime," Aari spoke up.

"And find my mom!" Cal exclaimed. "Oh, and we need to get Veethree. He's still on Aari's ship, hopefully."

Han groaned. As if this escape attempt wasn't already complicated enough, now they had to get a droid, a mom, and a politician. The smuggler thought maybe they could do without this Madai character. "All right, I have an idea," he interrupted, praying to whatever power existed in the galaxy that they would make it out of this alive. "How 'bout one person disables the tractor beam, one person gets the droid, and everyone else rescues this Madai guy and the kid's mom. Sound good?"

"If we knew where the tractor beam and the _Silent Blade_ were," Aari answered. She blew out a long breath and folded her arms across her chest.

"Mistress Leia, are you there? We've had some problems—"

"Threepio!" Leia looked almost happy to hear the droid. "Where is the ship _Silent Blade_ docked?"

"Just a moment." Threepio replied huffily. He conferred with Artoo for a few seconds before returning. "Hangar bay seventy-one, only three hangars down from the _Millennium Falcon_."

"Well there's some good news," Han remarked.

"The record says the _Silent Blade_ was damaged during the search process," the protocol droid finished.

Aari groaned.

"Was anything found?" Leia asked.

"No, Mistress Leia."

Cal breathed a sigh of relief. "We hid Veethree in a little tylithium smuggling compartment under the pilot's seat. Aari said it would be safe."

Aari smiled sadly, still down about her ship's condition. "Scanners can't penetrate tylithium. It's very rare; the guy who owned the ship before me installed it."

Leia furrowed her brow. "I know how to get to that hangar if it's near the _Falcon_. I'll go rescue the droid."

Han opened his mouth to object, but he stopped when he realized Leia was the only person here who had been able to walk around the space station unimpeded. What she had suggested made perfect sense. "Give your comlink to Aari," he told Leia. "Your droids can give her directions to the tractor beam. The rest of us can go find the prisoners."

Vic waved his hand in the air. "Shouldn't someone go with Aari? What if she gets caught?"

"Vic, I can take care of myself," Aari replied. "I used to do this kind of stuff for a living when I was younger. Sneaking around, I mean."

"I still think you should go with someone."

"Listen," Leia said, looking at Aari. "I'll meet you at the control room above the hangar once you've deactivated the tractor beam. My droids will tell you how to get there." The princess turned to Vic. "If she runs into trouble before we meet up, I'll know. Trust me."

Vic stared at her, his gray eyes hard. "I guess I don't have much choice."

"You don't."

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's get moving," Han said gruffly.

Leia and Aari nodded at each other and separated from the group. As Han watched them disappear down the corridor he couldn't help feeling as though he'd made a mistake letting them go alone.

.

* * *

.

"Escaped? How?"

"We don't really know, sir."

Grand Moff Tarkin pounded the table with his bony fist. "Put all sections on alert! I want them found."

"Yes, sir."

The comm signal ended, and Tarkin looked up at the man standing on the other side of the table. "If your daughter is involved with this, mark my words, the Emperor will hear about it," he threatened furiously.

Darth Vader stared at the older man, his dark countenance contrasting harshly with the sterile white light of the room. "I will deal with her," he growled. "Alone." The Sith Lord turned on his heel, his black cape billowing behind him as he swept out of the council room.

.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Escape

Chapter Fifteen: Escape

* * *

Cal decided that he didn't care for blasters one bit. Whey they'd gone charging into the detention area on level six, Cal had fired the weapon in as many directions as possible, but he had the sinking feeling that he hadn't hit a single guard or security cam. Watching Han, Chewie, and Vic mow Imps to the ground had made him feel severely inadequate. He would handle the blaster if he had to, but he knew it would never feel right.

"Didn't we just leave this party?" Han asked dryly as the last trooper collapsed against a computer console. Chewie rumbled something in response, and of course Cal couldn't understand a word of it.

"Cal! Go find cell 1138," Vic called out from across the room.

Cal nodded his head absently. "Captain Solo, could you see if Tani Nightrunner is listed with the prisoners?"

"I'll try, kid."

Cal groaned impatiently. He wished everyone would stop calling him that. He was not a kid.

Still fuming a little, Cal began to jog down the cell bay, looking at the numbers above each block to see if they matched the one containing the Alderaanian politician. He almost passed it, so intent was he on scanning all the cell numbers. "I found it!" he shouted down the bay. He slapped the controls eagerly and watched as the door slid open.

The young man inside was curled up on the durasteel slab that served as a bench. His dark hair was in disarray, and his elegant white tunic and pants were rumpled and torn. His eyes snapped open as Cal stepped down into the cell, and he lifted his head defiantly. There were ugly bruises forming on the entire right side of his face. Somehow he managed not to wince as he sat up straight.

"Who are you?" he demanded regally, as though Cal had just entered his private chambers without permission.

The former farm hand fumbled for an explanation. "I'm Cal Nightrunner," he blurted out. "I'm here to free you."

The man's eyes bulged. "You're who? Free me? That can't be—"

"Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but I found your droid and your message, and I'm looking for my mother—"

"You found Veethree?" the man interrupted, rising from his seat.

"Well, yes. I did. But I don't have time to explain now. Come on, we've got to get out of here!" Cal turned to leave and beckoned for the man to follow. He was a few meters away from the cell when he heard the man call out to him.

"Wait!"

Cal stopped and turned around. "What?"

The young man went to the cell door on the immediate right of his, ignoring Cal as he tapped the control panel. Cal returned to man's side and peered over his shoulder as the door opened to reveal the prisoner inside.

"Mom!"

Cal had never moved so fast in his life. He jumped down into the open cell and scooped his mother into his arms. Tani responded slowly, as if waking from a dream.

"Cal?" Her eyes fluttered as she whispered his name.

"Mom! Oh stars, I didn't know if I'd find you or not! Are you hurt?" He craned his neck to get a good look at the right side of her face. "What happened? Are you bleeding?"

Tani put a hand to Cal's mouth to slow the stream of questions. "Hush, darling. I'm fine."

Cal took a deep breath and felt the tears pricking at his eyes. She looked so pale, so old. It _was_ blood that he'd seen. She tried to turn away and hide it from him, but he'd seen it crusted over her eye and at the corners of her lips. "Oh, Mom." He hugged her fiercely, afraid to let her go. Suddenly the pain of his father's death, a pain he'd pushed deep down inside of him, returned to the surface. Cal buried his face in his mother's shoulder and cried.

"Cal, darling, it's all right. Everything is going to be all right," Tani murmured reassuringly as she held onto her son.

"I wasn't there to help him..." Cal choked on the words, crushing his mother even tighter against him.

"There's nothing you could have done, Cal. You would have been killed too," Tani said, stroking Cal's hair gently. "I see you've met my son," she said. Cal blinked and looked over his shoulder to see who she was addressing.

The young, dark-haired man leaned against the door frame, the ghost of a smile on his face. "Just a minute ago, actually," he replied. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to introduce myself formally. I am Javan Madai. I'm the one you spoke to about the stolen data."

Tani nodded sagely. "Yes, I figured it was you when I saw you earlier. Obviously the Imperials weren't compelled to let us have a civilized conversation." She pushed against the hard durasteel slab and let Cal help her stand up. "It's nice to finally speak to you face to face."

Javan stepped forward and took Tani by the hand, giving her extra support. "Indeed it is."

Cal looked back and forth between his mother and Javan Madai, the Alderaanian diplomat. There was some unspoken dialogue taking place between them, but he had no clue what it was. He tried to return their focus to the escape. "Leia's rescuing your droid," he told the politician quickly.

Javan turned his attention on Cal. "Leia who?"

Cal blushed at his own ineptness. "We kind of have a group of escapees now. I'll explain later."

"Good idea," Javan replied.

"Hurry up, kid! We've got stormtroopers headed this way!" Han Solo shouted from the detention area hub.

"I told you we shouldn't have blown out the cameras," Cal heard Vic grumbling.

"Yeah, you're right," Han shot back. "It would have been better for security to see a bunch of dead guards lying all over the room."

Cal looked at his mother and grinned. "That's some of them," he said wryly. All amusement left him, though, as he felt his mother lean heavily against him. "You need help walking?"

"No, I'm fine," Tani assured him. Cal wasn't sure he believed her, but the look on her face told him it would be better not to risk an argument.

Cal, Tani, and Javan walked back up toward the hub, where Han was speaking into a comm unit. As they came close enough to hear the conversation, the smuggler pulled out his blaster and shot the console, sending up a plume of smoke. "Boring conversation anyway…Cal!" he shouted, looking up. "Oh. You found them." His expression suggested that he didn't give a damn who Cal had found, so long as they all got out of there soon. "We're gonna have company if we don't move it," Han finished.

_What else is new?_ Cal thought to himself.

Javan tapped Han on the arm. "My droid is going to be all right?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. Leia will take care of him," Han assured. Cal thought he saw the smuggler roll his eyes.

Cal took his mom's right hand in his left and hefted his blaster up to his shoulder. "Ready?" he asked her gently.

A fire had begun to kindle in his mother's eyes. "As I'll ever be," she replied. She smiled, and Cal smiled back. They were going to make it.

.

* * *

.

_I never thought I'd be fighting my way out of an Imperial battle station alongside smugglers_, Javan thought sardonically as he picked up a blaster belonging to one of the dead stormtroopers. Cal Nightrunner had introduced the two other men as Captain Han Solo and Vic Phancil, and Javan was fairly sure by the look of them that they engaged in some sort of illegal activity for a living. The Wookiee was Solo's companion, and his name was Chewbacca. Javan had never seen a Wookiee before, and he had to admit he was impressed. To think that such beings were forced into slavery across the galaxy was heartbreaking. It was one more injustice that the Empire would pay for.

Ironically, the only person who didn't seem to belong in the group was Cal, the innocent farmboy from Tatooine. Javan guessed that Cal had never known his mother was a Rebel. There was something refreshing about being around a person who didn't know anything about politics or war. When the boy had embraced his mother, Javan felt something pull at his heart. The pain he'd carried since Alderaan's destruction flared up, threatening to overcome his composed exterior.

Javan shook his head as if to toss aside the ache. He had to be focused now. His wasn't the only life on the line now. If what the others had said was true, then the plans for the Death Star had never made it to the Alliance. It was up to Javan to get Veethree off of the battle station in one piece.

"Hey! Your Grace!"

Javan was shaken from his thoughts. He looked around for the speaker. It was the taller smuggler, the captain. Javan raised one eyebrow. "Your Grace?"

Han waved his hand impatiently. "Whatever the hell they call you people. You know how to use that thing?"

Javan smirked. He leveled his blaster at the scorched security cam over Han's head. He fired once, and the whole apparatus came crashing to the floor. "I've had some training," he replied. Cal and Tani stood off to the side, their eyes widening slightly.

Han cleared his throat. "Well, at least you're a decent shot."

A soft whining noise filled the room as the turbolift came to a halt and the doors opened. Vic stepped toward the lift. "Wait. Does anyone here know how to get to the hangar?"

Han scratched his head absently. "I knew we forgot something."

Javan made his way to the elevator. "I might be able to point us in the right direction. They did escort me to the command deck earlier."

"Bet you fifty credits and a shot of Tanarin Rum that the command deck and the _Falcon's_ hangar are on opposite sides of this monstrosity," Vic muttered. "All these halls look the same anyway."

Javan turned his gaze on the other man. "Do you have a shot of Tanarin Rum?"

"No."

"Then I see little point in making such a wager, especially in a place such as this."

Vic shut his mouth, momentarily stunned by Javan's response. The Alderaanian admitted to himself that he had spoken a little harshly, but right now he wasn't too worried about hurting a smuggler's feelings. He had a Rebellion to warn.

The Wookiee and the five humans crowded into the lift. Vic hit a button, warranting a questioning glance from the rest of the group. He looked around at them with a perplexed expression on his face. "I counted the number of levels between the hangar and the detention area when they first took us down there." Vic's explanation was met with silence. "What?" he asked.

Javan groaned. "You might have mentioned it earlier."

"Must have slipped my mind. Anyway, we're fine now."

Javan shook his head. He got the feeling that Vic Phancil enjoyed being difficult. What had he gotten himself into?

After a moment the lift began to slow down, and its occupants raised their weapons in anticipation. Finally the doors opened to reveal an empty hallway. Javan breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out into the corridor. The others stayed close, everyone looking in opposite directions to make sure they weren't taken by surprise.

"There's no one here," Cal said quietly.

"Kid," Han replied. "If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that there's _always_ someone here."

Javan grinned. They were a ragtag bunch, but they were amusing. "Captain Solo," he inquired softly. "Who is this Leia person? The one who is retrieving my droid?"

Han's gaze flickered with something strange, then returned to normal. "She's with me. Don't worry. She'll have no problem protecting your droid."

Javan nodded his head, but he couldn't shake the uneasiness that had suddenly sprung up in the pit of his stomach. He had the feeling that Han wasn't telling him everything, but somehow that didn't seem to be what was putting him on edge. Javan listened intently as the group made its way down the corridor. There was no way they were lucky enough to avoid stormtroopers the whole way to the hangar…

"It's them! Blast 'em!"

Javan spun around to see Han firing his weapon straight at the lead stormtrooper. Chewbacca roared, and he and Han took off down the hallway, screaming as they chased the rest of the troopers.

"Where are you going?" someone yelled over the din.

Han looked over his shoulder as he ran. "Get to the ship!" he yelled without losing momentum. A few seconds later they were gone.

Tani Nightrunner, the Rebel, was staring after the disappeared smugglers in something akin to awe. "Well, he's brave," she said as if answering a question.

"Or crazy," Cal murmured in disbelief.

Vic snorted disdainfully. "Great. And if he gets killed, who's gonna fly that junk ship of his?" He put a hand on Javan's forearm. "Let's go. I think I know the way."

Javan swallowed what little moisture remained in his throat and fell in behind the smuggler. He spared a glance at Tani and Cal. "Are you okay?" he asked the woman.

She smiled back at him. "I'm fine. Don't you worry; I'm tougher than I look."

Javan believed her, but all the same he couldn't help wondering if she was hiding more serious injuries. He could only hope the Imperials treated female prisoners better than their male counterparts. Facing forward once more, Javan turned left around a corner and hurried to catch up with Vic.

.

* * *

.

_I'm out of my mind, _Han thought briefly as he screamed wildly and barreled down the hallway after the stormtroopers. The last of the white-armored men rushed around a corner, and Han accelerated hoping to gain on them. He wasn't sure yet what his plan was, but so far it involved speed, tackling, and lots of gunfire. Chewie was still a few meters behind him, but he made the turn anyway.

Han's first thought upon seeing an entire room filled with stormtroopers was to yell a few choice expletives, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a panicked scream. He came to a halt, fired his blaster, and took off in the opposite direction. He saw Chewie, who'd been barreling down the corridor, come to a halt and aim his blaster rifle above Han's head. The weapon issued a loud report, and then Chewie came pounding after his companion. The pair continued to fire over their shoulders as the stormtroopers gave chase.

"Close the blast door!" Han heard a stormtrooper yell into his helmet comm.

Chewie bellowed urgently.

"I see it, I see it!" Han shouted back. Ahead of them a thick, black door was closing. Han felt his legs pumping harder to make it to the door. He dove through the diminishing entrance, yelling wildly as he crashed into the floor. The doors snapped shut, and Han turned around to see Chewie picking himself up off the floor. Han rolled onto his back and groaned.

"That girl better be paying me a small fortune for this," he grumbled. He let Chewie help him up. "Thanks, pal. Now let's go before they open those doors."

.

* * *

.

It hadn't been very difficult for Leia to board Aari Zalash's ship. Since it had been damaged - perhaps on purpose - during the scanning crew's search, there was little possibility of anyone using it to escape. The few stormtroopers that guarded such hangars were absent, save one. Leia was able to convince that man that he needed to take a nap. After he fell into a deep sleep, she dragged his body aboard the _Silent Blade_and hid it in the cargo hold.

There was very little space in the ship; it had obviously been designed to be fast and efficient while maintaining the ability to carry a decent amount of cargo. Leia recognized one area where the scanning team had discovered a hidden compartment and searched it. Luckily it wasn't the compartment Aari had described.

Leia made her way to the cockpit and crouched on the floor next to the pilot's chair. In the shadow of the seat - right where Aari said it would be - she saw a faint crack in the surface. It was too fine to wedge her fingers in; there must have been a control switch Aari neglected to tell her about. Leia reached out through the Force to probe the compartment. She sensed a still object inside which must be the droid. She continued to poke the chamber with mental fingers until she found the locking mechanism. It felt like a simple bar latch. With minimal effort she used the Force to nudge the bar out of the lock and heard it slide open. A bit more pressure and the lid sprung open, revealing a small, dark chamber.

The little droid hiding in the shadows did not move a single nanometer. Leia peered at it inquisitively. It had shut itself down; she wondered if it knew she was there. She reached out to take the droid in her arms…

A shrill cry erupted from the droid. It flew into the air in a panic, knocking into the control panel and the ceiling before landing with a thud in the pilot's chair. Regaining its bearings, it tried to launch itself off the seat, but Leia was already one step ahead. She snatched the droid out of the air and held onto it with all her might. It tried to wriggle free, but to no avail.

"Hey!" Leia yelled, wrestling the droid to the ground. "Veethree! That's your number, right?"

Veethree settled down a bit and stared back at her with big red sensors that looked almost like eyes. He was actually kind of cute.

"Javan Madai is your owner?"

Now Veethree stopped fidgeting and seemed to process what she'd said. His body swiveled to reveal a rectangular screen. Words began to scroll across the screen.

_I do not recognize you._

"I'm with Cal Nightrunner. You were with him, weren't you?"

_Yes._

"I'm supposed to take you to him. He's looking for your master."

_This could be a trap._

"Maybe you'll just have to trust me."

If possible, the droid seemed to eye her curiously. _Trust is an abstract. I am not programmed to trust._

Leia was not about to get into a philosophical debate with a droid. Threepio would have trusted her, foolish droid that he was.

_Threepio…_

"Do you know the droids numbered C-3PO and R2-D2?" Leia asked quickly. "They belong to me - Bail Organa gave them to me when I went to Alderaan. Now calculate the odds of me knowing those things. Am I trying to double-cross you?"

The red sensors flickered. _It is possible that you speak the truth. I cannot comprehend how you would know about the protocol and astromech droids otherwise._

"Then come with me. We haven't much time."

Veethree floated up off the ground. _Very well._ He settled into Leia's arms and whistled excitedly.

Leia kept Veethree snug in the bend of her left elbow as she descended from the _Blade_. Almost at the same moment her boots hit the hangar floor, heavy mental blows began pounding at her skull from the inside. She dropped to one knee, barely managing to hold onto Veethree as a torrent of anger crashed into her.

"_Father_," she gasped, trying to suck in a breath. She had never felt anything like this from her father before. He wasn't just upset, because she knew what that felt like. No, this was different. It was almost as if…

_As if he's actively probing the Force for me. And he's mad as hell._

The realization startled her. Leia winced at the residual pain that echoed through her mind. She'd been able to block him before, but now he'd increased the power behind his attempts. She wouldn't be able to avoid him for much longer. She had to help the others escape before he honed in on her.

_Well, it's a big space station. That should buy me some time._

Pushing herself upright, Leia hurried out of the hangar with Veethree and made her way to the control room above. She hoped Aari would get there soon so that she could see her and the three droids safely to the _Falcon_. They had little time to lose.

.

* * *

.

For the first time in fifteen years, Aari thanked the stars she had run away from the orphanage and been picked up by Trak's gang. Those had been the worst years of her life, but she had learned some valuable survival skills. How to become invisible was one of them.

Using the comlink Leia had given her, Aari received directions from the droids and made her way to the tractor beam undetected. At least she assumed she'd gone undetected because she'd used vacant service corridors, avoided any Imperials, and so far had not heard any alarms go off. She hated alarms. There was a fire in the east wing of the orphanage when she was six. All she could remember was the blaring siren and standing in the cold streets with the other orphans, watching that part of the building burn. Four girls died.

Aari gritted her teeth. She _really_ hated alarms.

The tractor beam was unguarded, as Aari had hoped it would be. She was a good shot with most blasters, but she didn't think that would make much difference against a squad of stormtroopers. Unless all stormtroopers were as inept as the ones they'd escaped from in the detention area. As glad as she was to be free, she had to admit that the Imps had put up a pitiful fight.

Aari climbed out onto the narrow ledge surrounding the tractor beam control station and slowly eased herself along the ledge to the first panel. The controls were simple. A knob turned here, a lever pulled there, and she was finished. Above her, the transparent blue tractor beam dissipated. Aari smiled wryly. _Well that was easy_, she thought. She peeked her head around the control station and was about to hop back onto the main walkway when she heard several pairs of boots clicking against the floor. She edged back around to the first control and slowly eased the lever into its normal position. Above her, the blue beam came on as a group of five stormtroopers arrived.

"Give me regular reports, please," their leader ordered, waving at two troopers to follow him. Aari snapped her head in the direction of the voice and froze.

The last two stormtroopers stood in place. "Right," one of them answered.

Once the first three men had gone, the trooper who had responded looked over at his companion. "You know what's going on?" he asked.

"Maybe it's another drill," the other replied.

Aari edged forward enough to see the two stormtroopers come into view at the end of the corridor. The stormtroopers continued their conversation.

"You seen that new VT-16?"

"Yeah. Some of the other guys were telling me about it. They say it's...it's quite a thing to see..." The two troopers began to make their way across the walkway, and Aari pressed herself up against the control station, hoping they wouldn't venture out onto the ledge. Unless these troopers left, she wasn't going to be able to turn off the tractor beam. Her right hand rested absently on the blaster at her hip. Would she be able to kill both of them before they got a shot off or called for help? She did have the element of surprise, and she was probably more agile than the armored men. Aari pulled her blaster out, and her stomach tightened the way it used to whenever Trak or Gossit told her they had an assignment for her. She didn't want to kill anyone this way. She didn't know if she could.

_No time for cowardice, kiddo,_ she scolded herself. _You've killed before._

_Yeah, but not like this._

Aari shook her head. She had to do it; everyone was counting on her.

"You know, I used to have a- wait a second." The stormtrooper cocked his head to one side as if listening to something. "I'm getting something...strange, the tractor beam must be interfering with my helmet comm. Here, let's get into a clearer area."

This time when she peered out from her hiding place, Aari saw that the guards had begun to walk back the way they came. Once they disappeared from sight she let out a breath that she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in. She pulled the lever down, deactivating the beam once more. Hopefully by the time the stormtroopers realized what had happened, she and her companions would be blasting their way out of this monstrosity.

Aari pulled out the comlink that Leia had given her and began to head for the rendevous above the hangar. "Hey, droid? See-Threepio? Are you there?"

"Mistress Aari! I tried to explain earlier that Artoo and I have been forced to relocate," the droid exclaimed quickly.

Aari groaned inwardly. _Leia is not going to like this. _"What happened, Threepio?"

"Soldiers broke into the control room, but I fooled them into believing that Artoo and I had been overpowered by the insane prisoners. When-"

"Where are you?" Aari snapped impatiently.

"We're in the main hangar across from the ship," the droid replied, obviously offended by Aari's interruption. "And there are several stormtroopers guarding it."

"All right, all right. We'll be there shortly." With an exasperated groan, Aari ended the transmission. She would still have to meet Leia at the control room, but at least the droids were now closer to the ship. If they could succeed in getting all eleven of their party - droids included - off of the Death Star, it would be some kind of miracle.

Aari had never really believed in miracles, but just in case she said a quick prayer and began running to the rendezvous point.

.

* * *

.

"Blast," Vic muttered. "There's no lock." He aimed the barrel of his weapon at the control panel.

"Wait! Don't shoot!" Javan shouted, pushing Vic's blaster away from its intended target. Their group stood on a short platform overlooking a large chasm. Any minute the stormtroopers that Han and Chewie had chased after would let someone know that the group of escaped prisoners had split up, so they had little time to waste. Javan nudged Vic out of the way and hit a button on the wall panel next to them. The door slid shut behind them, leaving only a few feet to maneuver. Javan pressed another button, and with a slight tremor a bridge began to extend from the platform. He gestured to Vic. "Now you can shoot."

Almost instantly the control panel sizzled and blackened. "That oughtta hold 'em for a while," Vic said with satisfaction. He held his arm out, motioning for Tani to cross the bridge. "Ladies first."

Javan watched as Cal steadied his mother and began to cross. He didn't like the way Tani was leaning against her son. He turned to Vic. "I'm worried about her," he whispered privately as they started walking several paces behind the Nightrunners. "She might have sustained internal damage."

Vic looked back at the door. Outside, the sound of rushing footsteps could be heard. "What do you suggest?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "Leave her?"

"No! Of course that's not what I meant," Javan replied quickly as he and Vic began to jog across the bridge.

"We'll be there soon enough, so don't worry about her," Vic shot back, his eyes focused on the hallway in front of them.

Javan had the feeling the other man was less confident than he'd suggested. He was about to respond when Tani collapsed a few meters ahead. His heart leapt in his throat as he and Vic sprinted toward her.

Cal was already kneeling beside her, trying to hoist her into his arms. "Mom! What is it?" He dropped his blaster and tried to get a better grip. "Mom, they're coming. We're almost there, okay?"

Javan and Vic dropped down next to Cal and his mother. "What's wrong, Tani?" Javan asked gently, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

The woman's eyes fluttered, and she took a shallow breath. "Something inside...bleeding maybe, but I don't know for sure."

Vic found one of her hands and squeezed it. "We'll help you. It's not far now," he assured. Javan prayed he was right.

Together, the three men lifted Tani off the ground. When she was finally standing up, Cal and Javan each took one of her arms and draped them across their shoulders. "We'll do the heavy work, Mom," Cal said, forcing a smile. "Just hang in there." He looked over at Javan and nodded, his face pale.

Just as they began to walk again, a laser bolt flew past Javan's right ear. He looked back and saw that the door had been raised just enough to wedge a blaster underneath it. _Oh, Force_, he pleaded. _We're so close. Just a little more time._ He and Cal started jogging toward the end of the bridge as Vic fired at the stormtrooper who was holding the blaster. The troopers raised the door enough for the Javan to see their boots. Vic kept firing behind him at the door.

They had just reached the opposite platform when Tani fell again, bringing Javan and Cal down with her. The woman let out a surprised gasp and slumped to the deck, her arm sliding off Javan's shoulder. Behind them, Vic swore loudly and fired again. Seconds later something crashed into the bridge. Javan spared a moment to look back, and he saw a stormtrooper sprawled across the bridge. Vic stood over the body, smoke still rising from the barrel of his gun. His eyes met Javan's for a brief moment before the Alderaanian turned away.

"Mom?" Cal was kneeling awkwardly on the platform, his arms around his mother. "Mom? Mom!" He looked at her frantically as he tried to support her.

Tani's eyes closed. "Cal..." Her head swayed as she lost consciousness.

More laser blasts hit the deck around them, and Vic ran to the platform to help Cal pick Tani up. Javan looked above him and realized where the shots were coming from. Stormtroopers were appearing on the platform directly over them. The diplomat stepped further underneath the overhang to avoid their fire. He bent over to assist Vic in lifting Tani up while Cal grabbed the blaster he had dropped. Another blast hit the deck centimeters from where the farm hand stood, but he ignored it.

Javan turned and grabbed Cal by the shoulder. "Come on, we have to go. They're going to have that door open any second." He pointed across the bridge at the slowly rising door.

Cal stared at the door for a second, his eyes darkening. "I'll catch up with you," he said flatly, turning his gaze to the weapon in his hand. "She'd better be okay," he growled, the malice in his voice barely subdued.

Vic looked up at Javan. "Gimme a hand here," he ordered gruffly. Javan turned away from Cal and took Tani by the legs while Vic picked her up under the shoulders. They started moving into the corridor when they heard blaster fire behind them. Javan cocked his head to the left and saw the farm hand firing madly at the platform above. "Cal!" Javan shouted. He couldn't stop Cal without dropping Tani. "Cal!"

"Cal!" Vic shouted. "Are you crazy? Let's go!"

Something in the way in which Cal's head moved made Javan think that the boy had heard them and that he was purposely ignoring them. He aimed his blaster at the platform and fired repeatedly. Javan heard three distinct screams, and another stormtrooper came tumbling from his perch. Cal kicked the body off the bridge and watched for a brief instant as it fell into oblivion. Then he turned his weapon on the stormtroopers crawling underneath the door that the prisoners had come through. He kept shooting at the troopers, killing two who had squeezed under the door. Their bodies blocked the entrance, slowing the rest of the squad further.

Javan cursed under his breath and hefted Tani up so that he could get a better grip. They were going to have to run for it; Cal couldn't hold off all of those stormtroopers by himself.

"Damnit, kid! Let's go before we all get killed!" Vic screamed above the noise.

Cal looked back at them, his face twisted with rage and fear. He dropped his blaster as if burned and ran across the bridge toward his companions. "Let me carry her," he commanded Vic, his voice hollow and quiet. Javan stared in disbelief as the young man put his arms around his mother's torso, gently pushing Vic out of the way.

Javan swallowed hard, noticing a nasty looking burn on the boy's left shoulder. "Ready?" he asked, unsure of what Cal might do next.

The other man merely breathed deeply and nodded his head. He and Javan followed Vic down the corridor, moving as fast as they could to stay ahead of the stormtroopers who were bound to make it through the blocked door. Javan bit his lip as his muscles strained under the burden of Tani's weight, but he kept going. If he didn't make it out of here, the Alliance was doomed.

"Cal?"

The sound of Tani's voice shocked the three men, and they stopped abruptly. Cal's face lit up. "Mom! I thought...oh stars, I thought..."

"I'm fine," she gasped. "Just hurt my side, that's all." She cringed with every breath.

Javan frowned as he examined the wound. The bolt had struck deep into Tani's side. "You don't look fine. Are you able to walk at all?" he asked, already aware of what the answer would be.

"I'll try. I'm not staying here if that's the alternative." She tried to wink at Javan, but the young man noticed fear creeping into her eyes.

Vic hefted his blaster and moved closer to the others. "I don't think we have long until the rest of those stormtroopers catch up with us," he informed, pointing his gun at the air behind them.

Tani's face was grim as she tightened her hold on Javan and Cal. "Let's not wait around, then," she said. Her face was pale, and a sheen of sweat covered her exposed skin. "Set me down."

Javan looked over at Cal and nodded. Together they adjusted Tani so that they would bear the brunt of her weight, and they began to move forward simultaneously. Vic took up the lead, and they followed him toward what they hoped would be the _Millennium Falcon's_ hangar.

Vic glanced back at them as they hurried along the corridor, and Javan held his gaze. The smuggler's gray eyes seemed to narrow for a moment, then he quickly turned his head forward.

Javan stared at the back of Vic's skull. The man was hiding _something_; he could feel it in his bones. But right now he couldn't tell if it was simple dislike he was sensing or something far worse and more dangerous.

Tani stifled a cough, and Javan returned his attention to her. He would trust Vic for now. Besides, Javan still had his blaster in case anything should go wrong.

Tani nearly stumbled, and Javan felt his concern for her outweigh his worries over Vic. For her sake, he prayed the smuggler was on their side.

.

* * *

.

Before she even reached the control room above the _Falcon_, Leia knew the droids were gone. She entered the room and felt Aari's presence immediately to her right.

"Good," Aari breathed thankfully, lowering her blaster. "It's you." She pointed at Veethree. "Nice to see you again, fella."

_And you, human._

Aari snorted. "Bucket of bolts."

Leia cocked one eyebrow. "Where are the droids?"

Aari pulled the comlink out of her pocket and handed it back to Leia. "They tricked some stormtroopers into letting them go down to the hangar for maintenance. They're right across from the ship."

Leia's eyes widened. "How did they manage that?"

"The protocol droid said something about his superior powers of persuasion," Aari replied, rolling her eyes. "I figure he just lied to them."

"Protocol droids can lie?"

"Why do you think they're so useful to politicians?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Leia trailed off, her amusement visible.

"Don't worry," Aari reassured, "he probably doesn't realize he's lying. To him it's probably creative problem solving or something."

Leia allowed herself a short laugh as she and Aari left the control room and began their trek to the hangar. It surprised Leia that she felt so at ease with this girl. In fact, she felt more comfortable with Aari than she ever had with Mara Jade. Maybe it was the fact that they were two women caught up in a life or death situation, but she felt a bond with the smuggler.

They had just accessed a service elevator when something sharp prodded Leia from the inside. As the lift doors closed, Leia put one palm on the sterile wall for support. She frowned as the prodding subsided a little.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Aari asked, concern evident in the way she immediately appeared at Leia's side.

The princess swallowed with difficulty. She averted her eyes, her lips pursed. "Darth Vader is on this station," she admitted at last. "He's coming for me."

Aari's jaw dropped open. "Darth _Vader_? As in the slaughterer of billions _Vader_? Coming for _you_?" Leia could see Aari struggling to put the pieces together in her mind. "Why is he after you?" the smuggler asked after a moment of intense confusion.

Leia hesitated as the lift doors opened, and she looked around the corner cautiously, tucking Veethree closer to her body. How much should she tell? "It's a long story," she answered vaguely. "I did something to anger him." Her words were slow and deliberate, but she knew Aari wasn't fooled. The older woman knew when she was being told partial truths. Fortunately, she had enough sense not to press the issue.

Instead, Aari cursed for a good eight seconds.

Leia stared at her in shock and perhaps a little bit of awe. "Where do smugglers learn to talk like that? Is it in some kind of self-help pamphlet? 'Colorful Phrases in Fifty Languages'?"

"You know, if I wasn't so upset about having a Sith Lord on my tail, I might laugh."

"It's just that I was never taught words like that," Leia said, a hint of nostalgia creeping into her voice. She admonished herself inwardly for letting those emotions take hold of her.

"You don't know what you've been missing. You sound like a spoiled rich kid."

"You can't always believe what you hear."

Aari grinned. "I try not to." She shook her head and pulled out her blaster, pointing it down the hallway. "Shall we?"

Leia gave her a genuine smile as she drew her lightsaber. "We shall."

.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: A Hard Learned Truth

Chapter Sixteen: A Hard-Learned Truth

* * *

"Don't move."

Aari hung back as Leia peered around a corner. The smuggler felt a mixture of admiration and envy as she was witness once again to Leia's Jedi-like powers. Aari had always prided herself in her ability to detect danger and make herself practically invisible, but Leia made those talents seem ordinary. It was unreal the way she reacted to the slightest hint of trouble. At least four times on the way to the hangar she had pulled Aari into a corner just in time to avoid an Imperial patrol.

This time, Leia closed her eyes and seemed to remove herself from reality. "We're almost there," she murmured. "Twenty stormtroopers guard the ship."

"Twenty!" Aari hissed in surprise.

"They know I'm here," Leia replied. She flashed an apologetic smile as she opened her eyes. "More security for a Force user. Sorry."

"Yeah, well, you can handle that many, right? With my help?"

The girl ran a hand over her braided hair. She blinked twice and looked up at Aari as if across a great distance. "I don't think so," she said slowly. She hesitated before continuing. "We can't risk damaging the ship if they fire on us. You get to the hangar while I distract those stormtroopers." She held Veethree out for the smuggler to take.

Aari stared back at her and nodded. It wasn't the ship or the stormtroopers Leia was most worried about. "Don't do anything stupid," the smuggler warned as she drew the little droid into her arms. "We might still need you after we blast out of here."

Leia smiled. "I'll try my best." She turned toward the corridor opposite their destination.

Aari reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "I'm serious. Don't try to be a hero. Just do what you have to and get out before he kills you. Vader has a reputation for brutal efficiency. I assume you know that if you're important enough to have him chasing you."

The younger girl cringed and looked down the empty corridor. "I'll be careful."

"Okay then."

Both women stood silently for a moment. Then Aari held out her hand, waiting. Leia gazed at the hand with an expression akin to caution and surprise. Then she reached out and shook it firmly. "May the Force be with you."

The smuggler smirked. "Right. Now get out of here."

Aari watched Leia jog down the corridor before turning back toward the hangar. She hoped the girl would be all right on her own.

.

* * *

.

She had felt him approaching, had known there was no avoiding him now. He sensed her, despite her attempts at shielding. It was as if his very presence stripped away all of her barriers. For the third time, Leia adjusted her grip on her lightsaber, chiding herself for being so nervous. This was, after all, only her father she was dealing with. He would never hurt her. He couldn't.

Leia clipped her saber to her belt and picked up the pace. Hopefully she could distract her father and the stormtroopers long enough for the rest of the group to make it to the _Falcon_. The setup was perfect: Vader was waiting on the other side of the hangar, in plain view of the troopers. Given the option, Leia thought the stormtroopers would be more interested in Darth Vader's presence than in some rust bucket of a ship parked in a battle station that no one in their right mind would try to escape. In theory, her plan should work.

Leia felt a tremor in the Force, and she slowed to a stop. The second hangar entrance – the one opposite where Aari now waited – was a few meters away on her left. Several meters beyond that, emerging from the shadows, was Darth Vader.

He reminded her of the ghost stories Winama used to tell before she died. The nursemaid had gone slightly mad toward the end of her life, and she insisted on telling Leia and Luke about the spirit of death that haunted their father's quarters. For months, Leia had imagined a tall, pale, hollow-eyed spirit tormenting her father throughout the night. Now Vader seemed to have become the living incarnation of the spirit Leia had feared at age ten.

His eyes were sunken and his face pale under the harsh overhead lights. His arms hung at his sides as he looked her up and down. "I've been waiting for you, daughter," he said quietly, his jaw clenched. He took a few steps toward her. His words hung in the air like a noose ready to be tightened.

For once, Leia found herself unable to speak. She couldn't tell what her father was thinking. His presence in the Force remained as murky as she had ever known it, and her danger sense warned her to keep her mouth shut while he appraised her.

Vader clasped his hands behind his back and raised his chin. "Did you kill the men in the detention area? The officers and the guards?"

Leia met his stern gaze. Lying would do her no good. "Yes."

"Were they insubordinate?" he asked earnestly.

"What?" Leia shook her head, puzzled.

Vader took another step. "Were they insubordinate?" he repeated, his tone one of urgency. "Were you forced to punish them?"

Leia felt a ghost of the anger she'd used to cut those men down. She shuddered, repulsed by her father's question and by her own emotions. "No," she answered, "it wasn't punishment."

"Did they initiate hostilities?"

Leia's mind raced as she recalled the events in the detention area. "No."

A burst of frustration slipped past her father's defenses. He growled something unintelligible and looked away. After a moment he returned his gaze to his daughter. "You were not provoked, harassed, or intimidated in any way?"

Suddenly Leia realized what he was doing. He was trying to cover up for her! Leia imagined her father lying to Grand Moff Tarkin, trying to placate him about her role in the prison break, and her blood began to boil. Vader was a Sith Lord! He shouldn't have to answer to any mere mortal, especially not a slimy regional governor. Let them all know what she'd done! Let them all know what she thought of their precious Death Star, and to hell with Tarkin!

With newfound courage, Leia straightened and met her father's gaze boldly. "No," she said. "I killed those men because I wanted to." It was close enough to the truth.

Vader seemed to turn her words over in his mind, perhaps deciding how best to spin them in order to save Leia from the wrath of the Empire. Deep down, she knew he would be glad that she'd defied the Emperor in this way, even if he didn't say it out loud.

"You will return to Imperial Center immediately," he said at last. "I must figure out how to fix the mess you've made here."

Leia's eyebrows raised in confusion. "But Father—"

Vader took another step toward her. "I let you leave the council room under the assumption that you would be returning to Imperial Center at once. You have disobeyed me repeatedly today, daughter, and I will _not_ tolerate it. You're going home _now_."

Leia spread her hands in a pleading gesture. "Father, I've been trying to help. You of all people must—"

"No," Vader cut her off. "You have no excuse for your behavior." He lowered his voice as he continued. "Leia, you are not ready. Your training is incomplete."

Leia felt her mouth hang open in disbelief. She had been groomed for this since birth! Why couldn't he see that she was ready to fulfill her destiny?

Then the truth hit her. A cold lump settled in her stomach as she stared into her father's eyes and found them unrecognizable.

"It's been you all along," she whispered, her voice shocked and betrayed. "I'm trying to _do_ something, to actually _change_ things, and you're standing in my way."

"I never—"

"Why can't you just let me help? Why is it always _someday_?" Leia advanced two steps and found herself only a few paces from Vader. Her eyes darkened. "I'm not waiting until you think I'm ready, Father. I'm ready _now_. I don't care anymore, dark side or light, none of it _matters_. I'll use whatever power I have, whether it's the dark side or not, to _make_ things different!"

"Leia—"

"There's more to the Force than you've been telling me; I can feel it," Leia accused. "Why else would I have so much trouble with the dark side? The Force needs more than dark - it needs light. It needs _love_. If you loved me and Luke—"

"Of course I love you—"

Leia cut him off angrily. "If you loved us, you wouldn't tell us to embrace the dark side! You don't know what love is!"

Vader's voice shook as he closed the gap between him and Leia. "I have loved and cared for you your whole life. I have always been there for you. You could always contact me, no matter where I was." An unearthly fire rose in his eyes as he pressed on. "I gave you _everything_. I gave you _life_. I gave you that power you cherish. I _gave_ you the Force! How dare you be so ungrateful! My life has been you since you were born!"

"Your life has been yours and yours alone," Leia spat back. "Don't pretend like you actually wanted me. Luke and I are weapons to fight the Emperor and nothing more."

"That is _not _true!"

"It _is_ true! You know it is! I don't know why you can't kill the Emperor on your own, but you can't, so you need us to do it. You raised us near Palpatine so that we would hate him. A real father would have hidden us far away from the Sith! He wouldn't have been selfish, like you! You do what you want, and you expect everyone else to submit. Well I'm not going to, Father. I'm not going to let you control my destiny."

Eyes burning, Vader leaned his face close to Leia's. "I am your _father_. You will do what I say," he murmured menacingly.

Leia felt the weight of the Force behind his words, but she pulled on her own anger and disgust to shield herself from his influence. She let the disdain drip from her voice. "They always called you the Emperor's lapdog, but I never believed it until now." _I never allowed myself to believe it._

Vader's eyes grew suddenly cold. "You overstep your bounds, _child_."

The detachment with which he addressed her stung deeply. Leia fought the tears, fought the urge to throw herself into her father's arms, fought every weak emotion that came flying to the surface, and with a hot wave of indignation she brushed all of those feelings away. Imperial Princess, daughter of Darth Vader, _future_ Sith – these were positions without true power. And without true power she would never be able to change anything. One day she would wake up and find that she too had become someone's lapdog, and all her potential gone to waste.

Leia glared at her father and made her decision. _I won't let you hold me back any longer._

"You're the one who has overstepped his bounds, my lord." She backed away three steps and ignited her lightsaber. The cerulean blade hummed like a threat in the deadly silence that followed.

Vader's hand drifted to the black saber hilt hanging from his belt. "Don't make me do this, Leia."

Leia's grip tightened. She searched inside herself, preparing to banish her fear, when she realized that she was no longer afraid. She'd made her choice on Alderaan when she decided to turn against the Empire. She stared at Vader as he activated his weapon, and with clarity she saw that her father _was_ the Empire. He was a slave bound to do the Emperor's bidding, and he himself had made slaves of thousands of worlds. He was the Empire, and she had to fight him. She had to fight him or lose herself forever.

_You're not ready for this._

Leia shook her head to clear Vader's whisper from her mind.

"I _am _ready," she growled aloud, twirling her lightsaber in a blue arc as she dropped into a ready position. "Stay out of my head."

Vader raised his saber over his head and began to circle her. Refusing to match him, Leia watched Vader from the corner of her eye, summoning the raw emotions that had fueled her attack in the detention area. She pictured herself standing before the Emperor, ready to strike him down, only to be stopped by Vader. She imagined the possibility of a galaxy at peace, where she and her brother could be safe and happy. Then she imagined Vader trying to take that possibility away from her. In every image and scenario that flashed through her mind, she saw her father as her enemy, and her anger grew.

"Leia." He tried to sound beseeching, as if he sensed the direction of her thoughts, but she wasn't swayed. Vader held out a gloved hand. "My allegiance has and always will be to you and Luke above anyone else."

She might have believed him if his weapon weren't humming ominously. Leia turned on him and pointed her lightsaber at his heart. "If you're not with me now, Father, then you _are _my enemy."

She sprung forward and swung her blade at his neck, a move that he easily blocked. Vader rolled his wrists and sliced upward, trying to catch Leia under the arm. She brought her saber down to block, but only barely. Vader leaned into his attack, pushing his blade closer to her body. Leia shoved against him with all her strength and snapped her wrists up, forcing both blades away from each other in a slow, controlled arc overhead.

As both combatants settled back into defensive stances, Leia gave herself another mental analysis. She was a good foot shorter than Vader and not nearly as experienced. He was craftier and stronger. On the other hand, Leia was younger, presumably more agile, and she'd trained with Vader almost every day since she was just a small child. She knew his fighting style a well as she knew her own. She could last long enough to let the others get to the _Falcon_.

Vader watched her in silence as they circled each other. For a moment he seemed to study her as if she were someone else entirely. It was unnerving, the way he looked right through her.

She had only half a heartbeat to wonder about it before Vader pounced. His offensive was almost exactly what she had expected. He swung straight down, hard, forcing Leia into an overhead block that she spun out of with practiced ease. His next move – a quick slice sideways – was meant to keep her from spinning too far out of reach, but she anticipated his attack and parried effortlessly.

Vader lunged forward and put all of his weight into a powerful swing. Leia blocked, parried, and twisted out of his grasp. They repeated this moves as though they were steps in a dance, Vader leading, Leia following, neither gaining nor losing. For one brief instant, it was not hard for Leia to imagine that she was back in the Imperial Palace, going through her daily exercise routine.

Lunge, swing, block, parry. The motions flowed as naturally as the Force itself. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a reasonable voice told Leia that she should be afraid of what Vader was capable of, but she didn't give it any pause. She wasn't losing, was she? Who else could last this long in a duel against Lord Darth Vader?

Something new occurred to her.

Maybe she had become as powerful as Vader. Maybe he couldn't beat her.

"My enemies usually try to make things a little more difficult for me," Vader sneered as Leia leveled her lightsaber in front of her.

"You would think the best swordsman in the galaxy would be a little harder to block," Leia shot back, letting her blood boil at the insult. She'd become complacent, her anger slipping away from her too easily. If she could call on enough anger and still control it, she might be able to give Vader the kind of fight he desired.

The Sith Lord laughed coldly. "Child, you have much to learn about insulting your opponent. Do you not think I've heard worse?"

"I'm just saving up for the right moment." Leia stabbed at Vader's abdomen, and he parried. They traded blows, each one increasing in intensity, each one coming that much closer to its target.

Without warning, Vader doubled back in surprise, putting himself out of Leia's reach. He stared at her dumbstruck for a moment before he found his voice. "_Where_ did you get that?" he asked softly, dangerously.

Leia followed his gaze and looked down at the japor snippet necklace that had escaped her tunic. The blue light from her upheld saber reflected off the silver chain, giving it an ethereal glow. She reached up and clasped the pendant in her left palm.

"It was my _mother's_," she replied scornfully, defensively. She was claiming Padmé as hers and hers alone. Vader didn't care for her, didn't honor her. He had taken her away from Leia. He had _let _her die.

A horrible thought struck her, making her insides scream.

Maybe he had _killed _her.

Leia stared across her lightsaber blade at the man who had fathered her, and her stomach almost rebelled. She tried to push away the images that flooded her mind. Images of Vader with his hands clasped around her mother's throat. Images of a blood red lightsaber plunging through her mother's heart. Images of hate and betrayal and atrocities that Leia had never thought possible.

All of the fragments of rage she'd tried to summon began to fill the void where memories of her mother should have been. Leia had been robbed of a mother, robbed of real love and happiness, robbed of a normal family. The pain, frustration, and anger of nineteen years had found its source.

Vader reached out his hand. "Give it to me."

Leia tucked the pendant into her tunic and twirled her lightsaber in a brilliant blue arc. "You'll have to kill me first, Father," she hissed. "Take it, if you can." She spat on the Sith Lord's boots, and then she attacked.

.

* * *

.

Darth Vader stared at his daughter in disbelief. This was not the Leia he knew. _That _Leia grasped the dark side of the Force timidly, even reluctantly at times. In the deepest parts of her heart, _that_ Leia was afraid of the dark side. But _this _Leia, the one standing before him with her lightsaber blazing, was anything but afraid.

She was like a dying ember that had suddenly been thrown back into the fire and given new, explosive life. Around her, the Force crackled and surged with destructive power. At last she had taken ownership of her anger, her hate. She had found her focus. The rage Vader had felt over her insolence subsided for a moment, replaced by a swell of pride.

"Very good," the Sith mused as he blocked a vicious stab from Leia. He struck back with force, shoving her several steps across the corridor. They stood apart, catching their breath. "I wondered when you would discover the _true _nature of the Force."

The young woman's eyes narrowed dangerously. "As soon as I stopped letting you hold me back."

He realized then that _he_ was the focus of her hate. The rage returned, blossoming in Vader's heart and spreading through his veins like a supernova. He could hate, too. He could hate more passionately and more deeply than Leia knew or understood. She must be shown.

Vader lowered his lightsaber to his right hip and lifted his chin imperiously. "If you think I have been holding you back, then you are more foolish than I thought." He stretched his right arm out, holding the crimson blade parallel to the floor. "You have only yourself to blame."

Leia snarled and lunged forward. "You're jealous of my power!" Her blade passed within a hair's breadth of Vader's chin as the Dark Lord jumped out of the way. "You need me to kill the Emperor. Without me, without Luke, you're _nothing_."

Vader let out his frustration in a shockwave of Force energy that flung Leia into the opposite wall. "I have been wronged too many times to be hurt by the words of a mere girl." He advanced as Leia picked herself up off the floor and reactivated her lightsaber.

"What are you waiting for?" Leia murmured, her voice betraying only a fraction of the pain she was certainly feeling. "I don't have all day, _my lord_."

Vader needed no further encouragement. He took a step forward and squeezed the hilt of his saber. "Very well."

.

* * *

.

"Finally," Han Solo breathed in relief as his beloved ship came into view. He turned to his copilot and smiled. "I don't think the _Falcon's_ever looked so good."

Chewie rumbled a hearty agreement, then wroofed a question.

"Yeah, I know I've said it before. And it's true every time, pal."

Han and Chewie walked slowly toward the hangar's small side entrance.

"Solo, thank the stars."

Han spun to the right as Aari Zalash emerged from a side corridor, a small droid floating next to her. She held her blaster at her hip.

"We're gonna need everyone if we plan on busting out of here," she finished.

Han looked beyond her but saw only empty space. "Where's Leia?"

Aari frowned. "She was going around to the other side to distract the stormtroopers so I could prep the ship, but so far none of them have moved." She waved her blaster at the white-clad men guarding the ship. "I don't know what's happened to her."

Something in her tone gave Han pause. "You're sure?" he asked skeptically.

Aari nodded, but her gaze shifted away from him. "Once the others get here we'll be able to take all of the stormtroopers with or without Leia's help. Hopefully she'll surface by then."

Han didn't like the sound of "hopefully," but there wasn't much he could do about it. "How many men?"

"Twenty."

"Twenty," Han groaned, shaking his head. Just when he thought this escape couldn't get any more complicated.

Aari smirked. "You worried you can't handle it, Solo?" Despite her bravado, there was a hint of nervousness in her voice that reminded Han of how young Aari actually was.

"It's not the guns I'm worried about, Zalash. If we're important enough to have twenty Imps guarding the _Falcon_, you can sure as hell bet the Empire isn't gonna forget about us."

"You expected to get off a top secret battle station unnoticed by the Empire?"

"I had my hopes."

Before anything else could be said, the little droid beeped excitedly and flew away. Aari shook her head and looked past Han and Chewie. "What took you?" she asked in a harsh whisper.

Han looked over his shoulder to see Vic, Cal, the boy's mother, and the politician approaching. The older woman was leaning heavily on Cal and Javan. Veethree greeted his master happily, and Javan replied with a few quiet words. Han pursed his lips and let the group move past him.

"We ran into some old friends," Vic replied dryly to Aari's question as he stepped past Han and observed the _Falcon_. He took in a sharp breath. "Nineteen troops for one piece of junk ship?"

"Twenty," Han corrected. "And I'm gettin' sick of people calling her a piece of junk."

Aari tapped his shoulder. "If the shoe fits, Solo…"

"So find a better ship and send me a message when you've escaped this thing. I doubt it'll be anytime soon."

"No need to get snippy," Aari scolded.

"What are you, my mother?"

"Captain Solo?" Javan spoke up in that quiet voice of his.

Han glanced over at him and saw only grim determination on the man's face.

Javan nodded at Cal and the boy's mother. "We're ready when you are, captain."

Han felt the eyes of the group on him, asking him to make the call. How had he become their leader? His name said it all. Save for Chewie, he flew solo. Rescue missions and heroics were for Rebels and Jedi, not smugglers and pirates.

He cleared his throat. "Well, let's wait a minute and see if Leia can't distract those Imps." His gaze settled on each face in succession. "Once we get out there, we don't slow down until after we're on that ship. If they see us, we shoot, but we _keep moving_."

Chewie rumbled softly.

"Right," Han replied. He pointed at Cal. "Kid, Chewie is gonna help you get your mom to the ship first, got it? Everyone else follows. Agreed?"

"Agreed," came the communal response.

Han breathed in and out, slowly. _Here goes nothing…_

_.  
_

* * *

.

Vader threw himself at Leia. His blade cut low, sweeping toward her feet. Still dizzy from being slammed into the hull, Leia leapt clumsily over the blade, swinging hers from the left toward Vader's unguarded shoulder.

She was expecting a quick twist and block, but the Force warned her otherwise. As Vader completed his low sweep, he ignored Leia's attack on his right shoulder and jerked his lightsaber back in the direction it had just come. Leia stopped mid-swing and dropped her blade diagonally to block the unexpected blow. Red blade met blue in a violently lopsided clash. Her balance gone, Leia stumbled backward to avoid getting her legs cut out from under her. The force of Vader's offensive sent her sprawling on her back.

Like the ghost of her childhood nightmares, he was upon her. His lightsaber hovered in front of her eyes like a bloodied spirit beckoning her unto death. Hypnotized by the light, it took her a moment to realize that Vader was speaking to her.

"I'm giving you one last chance, Leia. Stop this nonsense, and all will be forgiven. The Emperor doesn't have to know what you've done." His voice was strained, as if he were trying to convince himself that he wasn't angry with her.

Leia tried to back away from the lightsaber that was now inches from her throat. She looked up the crimson blade, past the gloved hand, and into Vader's eyes. A strangled gasp of surprise escaped her lips.

The blue irises she had known her whole life had been replaced by yellow orbs that burned like Vader's ire. Leia felt her skin crawl. _He's gone mad_, she realized. If he had to, he _would_ kill her. He might not even know what he'd done until it was too late.

So this was how it would end. Killed by her own flesh and blood on a battle station that had too recently murdered an entire planet. Ushered into death by one who had given her life. The irony was cruel and unrelenting. Leia swallowed quickly, praying that the Force might protect her from the impending agony.

As she tried frantically to find some way out of the Sith's grasp, her gaze traveled back down to the gloved hand that held Vader's blade. Of course! His right forearm was a mechanical replacement! It was the only weakness the twins had ever been able to find in their father's defenses. Years ago in one of their training sessions, Luke had accidentally used the Force to reverse the polarity of the electrodrivers in Vader's hand. Their father's fingers had sprung open, releasing his lightsaber and making him vulnerable to attack for the briefest instant. Later, once he'd figured out what exactly he'd done, Luke explained it to Leia. Why hadn't she thought of it sooner?

Vader smiled, still trying to coax her into submission. "When the time is right, _then_ we will strike."

Leia smiled back. She couldn't have said it better.

.

* * *

.

Han surveyed the area surrounding the _Falcon_. He frowned, wondering if Leia had even made it around to the other side. "Why couldn't she wait for us to get here?" he muttered.

"She's a woman of action," Aari murmured at his side. From the tone of her voice, it seemed that Leia's abilities had impressed the woman.

The frown lines between Han's eyebrows deepened as the stormtroopers left their positions and hurried out of view. "Either I'm gonna kill her," the smuggler growled, "or I'm beginning to like her. Now's our chance." He waved the group forward, letting Cal and Chewie through with Cal's mother. Javan went next, followed by Aari and Vic.

Han stepped into the hangar, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Leia's two droids were also approaching the ship. He was about to look to the right to make sure the stormtroopers weren't about to blast him when he noticed his entire group had slowed to a stop. He crossed the hangar and grabbed Vic, who was closest, by the arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed in the man's ear.

Vic waved his blaster in the direction the stormtroopers had gone, Han's eyes followed, and for the first time he saw what had distracted the Imps.

Across the hangar, a tall figure in black towered over Leia, who was trying desperately to crawl away from the red lightsaber that hummed near her throat. Han had the sinking feeling that Leia might as well have been a Rebel, such was the expression on Darth Vader's face as he bore down on her.

"…know what you've done," Vader spoke earnestly.

Leia stared up at Vader, and even from across the hangar, Han could see the fear on her face. He raised his blaster and began to aim it at Vader.

_Door lock._

Han blinked. He hadn't actually heard it; it was more of a mental suggestion, an idea that his brain translated into those two words. He swatted it aside, trying again to aim his blaster at Leia's aggressor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Javan do the same.

Suddenly, Leia smiled, and Vader roared as his right hand opened, releasing the lightsaber. The weapon flew away from Vader as Leia sprung to her feet and kicked him square in the chest, sending him sprawling against the far wall. A blaster report issued from behind Han, and the bolt struck the blast door controls. Leia dove through the closing door and rolled to her feet, lightsaber blazing.

The sight of that cerulean blade spurred Han into action. The stormtroopers quickly turned on them when they realized who triggered the blast door, and they fired at the escapees from across the hangar. Han and the others returned fire, careful not to hit Leia, who was steadily carving her way through the stormtroopers.

The blast door that had been locked to keep Vader out of the hangar began to glow orange in the center. Han stared at it between laser blasts, his instincts telling him something very bad would happen if they didn't get off the station before the Sith made it through that door.

A siren began to go off, and Han jerked his head around to see who else was still out here. Vic, Aari, and Javan were shooting at the remaining troopers, keeping them away from Leia as she ran toward the _Falcon_. Above the sound of the alarm, Han heard the ship's engines whine and begin to warm up. Meanwhile, pieces of the melting blast door began to give way.

"Let's go!" Han shouted at Leia. She sprinted to his side and turned around to deflect more enemy fire.

"He's coming through," she replied breathlessly, weaving her weapon through a series of loops that perfectly countered each blaster bolt sent her way.

Han nodded and waved at the others with his free hand. "Get on the ship!"

Vic glanced away long enough to miss the laser blasts that ripped into his right shoulder. He cried out as he pitched forward, his blaster tumbling to the ground. Without thinking, Han lunged at Vic, catching him awkwardly. Aari was there immediately, her eyes alight with rage.

"You idiot!" she yelled. Grabbing his arms, she began to drag him toward the _Falcon_. Javan, who up until now had been firing with pinpoint accuracy, dropped his weapon and took Vic by the legs. Together, he and Aari carried the smuggler up the ramp as Han resumed fire.

They were down to seven stormtroopers, and Han was sure there were more on the way. They had to leave now. He glanced over and saw Leia still standing near the chasm in the center of the hangar. "You coming, Your Worship?" he asked urgently, shooting down another trooper.

Leia jerked as though she had just come out of a trance. Her lightsaber was moving, but her eyes were locked on the blast door, which had broken apart enough to see the vengeful face of Darth Vader on the other side.

Han narrowed his eyes. "Come on, princess. You can't stay here."

Leia spun her lightsaber in a full arc, then turned and ran for the open hatch. "I'm coming!" she exclaimed, and Han covered her as she sprinted up the ramp.

Taking one final look at the melting blast door, Han disappeared into the _Falcon_ and slapped the button that closed the hatch. "Chewie, get us out of here!"

The Wookiee roared from the cockpit, and the ship lifted off and blasted out of the hangar.

.

* * *

.

The blast door exploded in a violent burst of energy, and Darth Vader stepped through the melted, red-hot wreckage as the _Millennium Falcon_ left an ion trail in its wake. He stared after the ship in silence. After a moment, he pulled out his personal comlink. "Commander Brage," he said crisply, "do _not_deploy your fighters."

"Sir?"

"I said _stand down_. We'll have them soon enough."

"Yes, my lord."

Vader shut of his comlink and gazed out into the empty space where the _Millennium Falcon _had been only moments before. Ignoring the stares of the surviving stormtroopers, the Sith turned briskly on his heel and stalked out of the hangar.

.

* * *

.

"Are they away?"

Darth Vader stood behind Grand Moff Tarkin like a grim specter, silent and brooding. He looked past the governor at the viewscreen showing the Death Star's current position. Tarkin seemed to take Vader's silence as an answer.

"The princess is with them, I assume?"

If Vader still had the heart for it, he might have threatened the man for even mentioning his daughter. As it was, he felt no inclination to disagree with Tarkin. In fact, he felt nothing at all.

"Is the homing beacon secure aboard their ship?" Tarkin continued, turning to face the Sith.

Vader let his eyes wander down to meet Tarkin's chilly stare. "Yes," he replied, his voice as hard as durasteel.

The grand moff frowned and spun away from Vader, watching a small pinprick of light blink on the viewscreen. "I'm taking an awful risk, Vader. This had better work."

.


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Confrontations

Chapter Seventeen: Confrontations

* * *

Javan sat behind the pilot's seat, staring out at the starlines streaking past the _Millennium Falcon's_ hull. Since Alderaan's destruction, he hadn't had a truly quiet moment to reflect on all that had happened. In his prison cell, the time between interrogation sessions was filled with fear and despair. During those times his mind had been anything but quiet.

The young man sighed as he continued to watch the stars. Despite all that had transpired, despite the danger and excitement of the escape, Javan still felt hollow inside. When he was forced to watch his beloved homeworld burn out of existence, his innocence was likewise extinguished. On the outside he was still Javan Madai, Imperial Representative from Alderaan. He was the son of Orin and Inade Madai, the second cousin of the Viceroy and Prince of Alderaan, Bail Organa. On the surface, he was even a Rebel. But inside he was just…lost.

The cabin door clicked, and Javan looked back to see the smuggler woman enter. She smiled weakly, then plopped herself down in the chair next to Javan. Despite the dirt and grime on her clothing, she was quite beautiful, and Javan had to force himself not to stare.

She laughed and leaned toward him. "I guess I didn't get a chance to introduce myself. I'm Aari Zalash."

She held out her hand, and Javan took it. "I'm Javan Madai," he replied quietly.

"Yeah, I know. We got your message." Aari ran her fingers through her dark blonde hair, leaning back to take a deep breath. "Almost didn't make it." It was only then that Javan realized her hands were shaking.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She set her hands in her lap and stared down at them. "I'm fine," she answered, her tone unconvincing. "I'm just not used to the excitement, you know?"

"Yes, I do." He watched her closely as she looked about the cockpit, searching for something to concentrate her nervous energy on. She was stunning, really. How was it that in all the high society of Alderaan, he had never noticed a beauty such as this? Javan shook his head, the thought of Alderaan still too painful to dwell on, even remotely.

Aari returned her gaze to him. "What's wrong?" Her expression changed instantly to one of concern.

"Nothing," he said, turning away. "I was just thinking about my home." He rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tears that threatened to overcome him. "How did you come to be involved with my droid?"

Aari smiled. "Cal showed up with that droid and asked me to fly him to Alderaan. And now here I am."

"I'm sorry I got you into this."

"Hey, it's not your fault. I'm not upset, really. I mean, I did lose my ship, but…" she trailed off and stared straight into Javan's eyes. "Tell me it was for a good cause. Tell me it was worth it, and I'll believe you."

Javan was surprised by the sudden intensity in her voice. "If we get this information to the Alliance, we could turn this war around and free the galaxy."

"You're sure?"

"I'm not sure of anything anymore. But I have to hope. All I have left is hope."

Aari nodded. "Me too."

There was a grunt behind them as someone else entered the cockpit. Javan looked over his shoulder and watched as Vic Phancil strode past him and sat down in the pilot's seat in front of him. He noticed Vic's right arm was wrapped in a sling, a result of his encounter with an Imperial blaster bolt.

"We were lucky to make it out of there in one piece," Vic commented, gazing out the viewport at the starlines.

"It wasn't luck," Javan said softly, drumming his fingers on his knee. "They let us go."

Aari nodded in agreement. "That explains how easily we escaped."

"Easy?" Vic protested. "You call _that_ easy? You call coordinating an escape with seven people, a Wookiee, and three droids easy?"

Aari raised one eyebrow. "Sounds near impossible, doesn't it?"

"Because it _is_ impossible," Javan added. He looked Vic in the eyes before continuing. "They're tracking us. There's no other explanation."

Vic seemed to consider the possibility. "Solo's going to have a fit when he finds out."

Aari scowled and folded her arms. "At least the droid is safe."

"Yeah, by the way," Vic said, shifting so he could point his finger at Javan. "What is so important about this droid?"

"He's carrying the schematics for that battle station," Javan replied with a calm that didn't reach his troubled heart.

"This isn't over, then," Aari stated gravely, voicing what Javan had been thinking.

Vic shrugged. "Well, I'm out of commission anyway. I can't shoot worth anything with my left, and my right's useless until we get some more bacta." He punctuated his statement by lifting his injured arm slightly.

Aari frowned at him. "If you weren't such an idiot, there wouldn't be a problem with your arm." She stood up and nodded politely at Javan. "Excuse me, Representative Madai, but I really can't stomach our new arrival."

"What?" Vic cried incredulously. "What did I do wrong this time?"

Javan felt a twinge of sadness as Aari left the cockpit without answering Vic's query. But he had to admit, she was an attractive woman from every angle.

Vic kicked something under the control panel and cursed under his breath. He turned around and glared at Javan. "What did I say that was so horrible?"

Javan shrugged. "Perhaps it was your attitude." He smiled as a thought occurred to him. "Or maybe you really are an idiot."

"Hey, pal, I don't need your criticism." Vic leaned forward and stared at the empty doorway. "She's really feisty, isn't she?"

Javan frowned as he waited to see where Vic was going with this.

"I don't know," Vic said almost sheepishly, "do you think a girl like that and a guy like me—"

"_No_."

Vic looked at Javan and laughed. "Hey, I was only asking, Your Grace." He stood up and stretched his left arm above his head. "Take it easy." He walked out and left Javan once more alone with his thoughts.

.

* * *

.

Mara opened the door to Rennal's quarters with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner awaiting execution. She did not relish her current task – bringing food to the assassin like some lowly servant girl – but the Emperor had commanded her to do it. She knew better than to argue with him.

The first thing Mara noticed as the door slid shut behind her was that the lights were drastically dimmed. She stood by the door for a few seconds as her eyes adjusted to the change in lighting. Through the Force, Mara sensed Rennal waiting in the far left corner of the room. Once she could see better, she realized he was doing a handstand.

"What do you want?" he asked in a tone that suggested both impatience and amusement. Mara was surprised by how still he kept himself. He had to be using some measure of the Force to augment the exercise, because she couldn't detect even a trace of movement.

"I brought your food," she answered. "But if you'd rather stand on your head all day, I'll take it and go."

"You're an annoying, arrogant little brat, Mara Jade."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Master Assassin."

Rennal let himself down from his handstand and sat cross-legged on the floor. "If you're trying to rattle me, Jade, it won't work." It was still too dark to see his face from across the room, but Mara was sure he was smirking at her.

She crossed the room and handed him his meal tray. He took it silently and examined the food. Mara backed away and watched him as he began to eat. In-between bites, the assassin glanced up at her. "I'm not doing this," he said abruptly, food still in hand.

Mara cocked one eyebrow. "No one's making you eat."

"I'm talking about this interrogation we're going to have about my father. I'm not doing it."

Mara clicked her tongue thoughtfully. He'd read her intentions before the conversation even began. Impressive.

"I haven't said a word about your father," Mara said simply, wondering how best to approach the subject now that it was out in the open.

Rennal ignored what she'd said. "Did His Holiness send you to interrogate me? Because I don't _know _who my father was, and even if I did, I wouldn't give a damn about what happened to him." He punctuated that declaration with a gulp of water.

Mara watched him warily as he set aside his tray and stood up. "Aren't you going to finish?"

"Not now." He stepped toward her.

Mara's insides tightened. "Stop."

A wicked grin flitted across his face, but it never reached his eyes. "Why? You're not afraid of me, are you?" He was within arm's reach now.

Without thinking, Mara went for her lightsaber. Maybe the uneasiness in her stomach slowed her reaction time, but Rennal's response was so quick that she didn't even realize his hands were going for her throat until her oxygen was cut off. The lightsaber clattered to the floor, useless.

The assassin lifted her off her feet. "Let me tell you something, Mara Jade," he whispered mockingly in her ear. "I _can _kill you. It won't be today or tomorrow or next week; I know the Emperor isn't stupid enough to let his precious pet die so soon. But do _not _make the mistake of believing you're better than me simply because you carry a Jedi's weapon. I _am_ stronger than you, whether you choose to believe it or not."

Rennal's fingers dug deep into the soft flesh of her throat. Mara gasped for air, feeling the panic well up in her. She tried to reach for the Force, but it eluded her grasp. If she could focus on her lightsaber…her blaster…_anything_…

_Master!_

She sent a mental plea, the strongest she could manage. Mara surrounded the call with desperation, with the urgent need for survival. He wouldn't abandon her. He would kill the assassin…squash him like the insect he was…

Rennal lowered Mara to the floor, his hand still clamped tightly around her neck. "I would suggest you show me some respect in the future." He released her, and her skull smacked the floor with a painful thud.

Stars exploded in Mara's eyes as she struggled to breathe through her bruised windpipe. She started to get up from the floor; she thought she was standing, but the floor tipped beneath her, sending her back down. Her face hit something cold and hard.

"Stop it, Jade." Rennal rolled her onto her back. He placed one hand under her neck, holding her head off of the ground. "Stop trying too hard, you stupid kid," he growled. "Small breaths, slowly."

Mara did as he said, her airway opening slightly as she inhaled.

"Now sit up. Damnit, doesn't your master teach you _anything_?"

She would have retorted with something venomous if she had the air to do it. Instead, she sat up and concentrated on using the Force to mend her throat. She'd see a medic later, but her own healing abilities would do for now. Rennal put one hand between her shoulder blades, supporting her. If she wasn't so afraid of how he might react, Mara would have pulled away from him. Trying to ignore the feelings of revulsion, Mara turned her focus inward, to the ancient healing techniques.

As she sifted through the currents of the Force, Mara became acutely aware of Rennal's presence at her side, of his intentions. What startled her most was that there was no real malice, at least not directed toward her. She felt anger and resentment, but also a hint of regret, enough to give her pause.

After several long minutes, Mara was able to use her voice again. "Why," she whispered hoarsely, "did you help me?"

The look he gave her could never have been mistaken for one of fondness, but something in his bleak, twilight eyes and in the grim set of his jaw reminded her of Lord Vader. And Vader had always held a distant sort of fondness for Mara.

"You're too soft," Rennal said at last. "Probably because of that prince of yours."

Mara's eyes flashed. "He's _not_ my prince. And how do you know about him anyway?"

"He's Prince of the Empire. Not a big secret, kid."

"No, I mean, how do you know of our…acquaintance?"

Rennal stared at her, unflinching. "Does it matter?" Something behind his expression changed. Mara could almost imagine a door being locked inside him. "I just know," he finished.

He looked away, as if trying to bury some important secret within the confines of his twisted psyche. He shook his head and faced her. "But that's not the point. The point is you're not hard enough to do the job the Emperor's given you."

Mara felt some of her usual fire returning. "I brought _you_ in, didn't I?"

Rennal shook his head again. "Arrogance and a lightsaber don't harden you, Jade."

Mara felt as though she'd been slapped. The defiant part of her wanted to tell him precisely what she thought of him, foul words and all. But another part of her told her that maybe he was right to say what he had. Maybe she wasn't prepared to be the Emperor's Hand.

Rennal moved away from Mara and picked his meal tray up off the floor. "You can go now," he said sharply, turning his back on her. "I don't need anything else."

Any humility she'd felt quickly vanished. Mara glared at the assassin's backside as she picked up her lightsaber and stood slowly. "Good," she spat. Turning on her heel, Mara strode toward the door and hit the keypad violently. She was through the door before it even finished opening.

She didn't see Rennal slam his meal tray against the wall, but she did feel it through the Force. Her stomach squirmed, and she clutched at it with one hand. She would have to tell her master what had occurred between her and the assassin. Aidan Rennal was dangerous and unpredictable. If he stayed, something terrible would eventually happen.

.

* * *

.

Cal bent over his mother, who lay peacefully, if not comfortably, in the _Millennium Falcon's_medbay. He patted her arm, marveling at her ability to remain so calm in the face of so much danger. Maybe that was how she'd been able to conceal her true identity from her own son.

Tani turned her eyes toward Cal, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts. "You want to know why I never told you."

Her voice was much too weak. Cal forced a smile and took her hands in his. "It doesn't matter, Mom. You're safe now."

The weathered farmwife-turned-Rebel agent smiled patiently. "Nonsense. You're dying to know my reasons. And you and I both know we're not safe yet."

Cal lowered his head in defeat. He was so easy to figure out. "Tell me later. You need to rest."

A speaker crackled over Cal's head. "Kid?" a voice called out. It sounded like Captain Solo, but there was a lot of static.

"Yeah?"

The comm sputtered. "We're having a meeting in the commons." There was an angry sound in the background. "Just follow the shouting," he finished cynically.

Cal sighed. "Okay." The static died, and Cal shook his head.

Tani's face betrayed her sudden concern. "Did you give them the coordinates I told you?"

"I think Representative Madai is taking care of it," Cal replied.

Tani's eyes grew weary. "They destroyed his whole world."

Cal nodded and touched her forehead. "I know, Mom." He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Rest, okay?"

"I will."

Cal stood and left the medbay, dimming the lights on his way out. He heard voices echoing through the corridor, but he wasn't sure which way they were coming from. The _Millennium Falcon_ was a good deal larger than Aari's ship, and everything was arranged in a circular fashion. He was still adjusting to it and probably wouldn't figure it out until right before they disembarked.

He chose the direction which sounded loudest and followed it to the ship's commons. Seated and standing around the room was the majority of their escape party. Chewbacca and Han Solo were seated at the dejarik board, Aari and Vic were glaring at each other from seats on opposite sides of the room, and Javan stood in the middle of the assembly, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. In the darkest corner of the room, Cal saw Leia, the mysterious Force girl, sitting on the floor next to a blue and white astromech droid.

The voices had hushed the moment Cal stepped into the room, and the farmboy felt nervous having so many pairs of eyes suddenly fixed on him. Without a word, he hurried over to Aari's side, deciding that she was his closest companion in this crazy adventure and therefore the least likely to be bothered by his presence. He caught Javan's eye as he passed and received a small nod of approval.

Once he was secure in his position next to Aari, the debate began anew.

"Look, Senator, or Viceroy, or whoever the hell you are," Han began, leaning forward across the table. "This is _my_ ship, and _I _decide who rides, got it?"

"I understand your rights, Captain Solo," Javan countered smoothly, thought the tension in his voice was beginning to show. "However, you must appreciate the gravity of the situation. We _cannot_ head for an Alliance base while _she _is on board." He punctuated his statement with a stiff gesture toward Leia. If possible, the girl's countenance darkened.

"What do you propose to do with me?" Leia asked flatly.

Javan looked uncertain for a moment, but an idea seemed to come to him. "Put you in an escape pod and let the Empire find you."

Leia studied the diplomat for a moment. "You've suffered greatly," she concluded. "But you aren't the only one. You shouldn't take your troubles out on me or anyone else. Governor Tarkin is the one to blame."

Javan took an angry step toward her, and for one moment, Cal thought he would snap. He stared at the girl, a mixture of sorrow and rage clouding his eyes. "You don't know what real suffering is," he declared bitterly. "You don't know loss. In fact, I suspect you know very little beyond the lies you have been fed. Tarkin is evil, but so is the Empire he represents. And I intend to fight its tyranny until my last breath."

Silence followed Javan's last statement, and Cal felt himself in awe of the man. Here was someone who had lost everything but still found the courage to press on. If only Cal could be so sure of himself.

Captain Solo stood up and tried what he probably thought was his best to soothe the politician's anger. "Why don't you give the girl a break, huh? If it weren't for her, we wouldn't have gotten close enough to the ship to even dream about escaping."

"If it weren't for her," Vic grumbled, "we'd have had _fewer_ stormtroopers to deal with."

Javan waved away the man's discontent and looked at Han. "Captain Solo, I am forever grateful for the rescue and for everything, but she's an Imperial insider. She was sitting _next to_ Lord Vader when our delegations met."

"And you must know why," Han snapped. Cal got the feeling he hated being challenged, especially on his own ship.

"There have always been whispers," Javan began ominously. "About Vader and his secret trainees. About how he kidnaps children from their homes and molds them into…into…" he sighed and shook his head, redirecting his attention to Leia, who was simmering in the corner. "I can't even comprehend what he has made you into. What kind of creation lurks beneath the surface?"

Leia pushed against the floor and rose to her feet. Her eyes shone with…were they tears? She met Javan's stare and lifted her chin. "You don't have to wonder what I am," she said harshly, her voice thick. "I _am_ his creation. He's my father."

Cal heard Aari inhale sharply, and across the room, Vic shook his head. Javan looked surprised, but not as surprised as the former crew of the _Silent Blade_. He was the first to break the silence.

"Of course," he murmured thoughtfully, looking interested rather than disgusted.

"_You're_ the Imperial Princess," Vic blurted out. "You're _Ember_."

Javan began to make the connections. "And Shade is—"

"My brother. And that is all anyone need know."

Vic whistled, leaning back in his chair. "So now we're really going to trust you."

Leia glared at him. "You know, _technically_, you're the criminal here. I don't see why I should trust _you_."

"What? Fighting Darth Vader doesn't rank as a crime? Ever heard of treason?"

Aari stepped into the middle. "That's why we should trust her, you nerfherder. If anyone here has a reason to be on the run from the Empire, it's the princess."

"Like Daddy is going to punish his little girl," Vic mocked.

"Yeah, Vic. I think he will."

Vic waved his good arm and looked away. It amazed Cal that two people should be at odds as much as those two were. He was just glad no one had drug him into the conversation, if it could even be called that.

At last, Leia's dark mood seemed to have passed. Her shoulders sagged just a little as she commanded the attention of the room. "Love and family mean nothing to the Sith Lords," she said with force. "I have no father. Not anymore."

There was a brief pause as the others in the room took in Leia's words. Cal found himself willing to believe her, even to accept her as one of them. The thought didn't bother him as much as it probably should have.

It was Aari who spoke first. "Father's are good for nothing anyway. You're all right by me, Princess."

"Leia. My real name is Leia. And thank you."

Han blew out a long breath. "Does this mean we can all stop moaning and get on with things? I'd like to get paid by _somebody_, preferably sometime soon."

As the gathering dispersed, Javan cast a guarded look at the former Princess of the Empire. "You know I can't trust you," he said quietly, moving closer toward her. Cal could barely hear him from where he stood. "Even if I wanted to, I can't afford to trust you."

Leia's expression was solemn. "Of course. What kind of politician would you be otherwise?"

Javan bowed politely and walked away. Cal watched him go, wondering how the princess and the politician had gone from anger to reluctant respect in so short a time. It was as if there was some mannerism or gesture that he had not picked up on, something that resembled a truce. Whatever it was, he was glad for it, because he hated to think of being in the middle of any more fights. As the new crew of the _Millennium Falcon_ set about occupying themselves, Cal made his way back to the medbay to check on his mother.

.

* * *

_.  
_

_A few more hours_, he thought with an odd sort of detachment, _and I'm gone_. Imperial Center was the only home Luke had ever known, and now he was leaving it.

_It's not for good_, he reminded himself.

But that really all depended on what he found when he reached the Alderaan system. Maybe the day had finally come, when Darth Vader and his children would rise up against the Emperor and reclaim the galaxy. Maybe his father would finally have the strength to break free of his shackles. Maybe Leia was fulfilling her destiny right now.

_But the vision…_

Luke tossed a training remote in the air and ignited his lightsaber. The beam of emerald light shot out to meet the electric charges emitted by the remote. Luke twirled his saber in a high arc, batting away the lasers like insects.

_He could have defeated the Emperor long ago_. The remote began another series of strikes. _Why didn't he? What could have possibly held him back?_

There were no answers, only more questions. Luke dropped to one knee and deflected the shots behind his back. The extra lightsaber – the one he intended to give to Leia, in case something unexpected had happened to hers – bounced against his hip. It was a reminder of why he was here, what he was doing.

He wondered briefly who it had belonged to before his father had bestowed it upon him.

"_One day you will construct your own, so that all who look upon you will know on which side you stand."_

His father's words echoed in his memory. The importance of his own lightsaber, he knew, would be the color. The bright red blade of countless Sith and Dark Jedi over the millennia was the quickest sign of allegiance. Luke still couldn't figure out why he and Leia were forced to train with the lightsabers of defeated Jedi. Unless it was supposed to serve as some kind of twisted memorial to the weakness of the light side of the Force.

_Maybe it was the Emperor's idea to give them to us_, Luke thought darkly._ As a warning. _

Luke tossed his lightsaber from his right hand to his left and closed his eyes. The remote was moving to the next programmed level of attack, but Luke could see it clearly in his mind's eye. He stiffly deflected a few shots, noting that he would need to practice this left-handed fighting more often. Just because he wasn't going to be a true Sith was no reason for him to be unprepared. The Emperor would be in for a great surprise one of these days…

Tiring of the remote and its lack of versatility, Luke sliced upward, cleaving the device in two. It clattered to the floor, smoking and sputtering as the power unit died. Luke opened his eyes and studied the orange glow where his lightsaber had shorn through the metal.

It could all end in a microsecond. Even for the most powerful of Sith. Even for Leia. He had been unable to reach her all afternoon, but he knew he would feel it if something horrible happened. He had to.

_Leia. Are you there?_

The Alderaan system was not very far from the galactic capital. He should have been able to contact her through the Force.

_Luke._

He shut off his lightsaber, as if doing so would allow him to better hear his sister's call.

_Leia!_

He felt a faint connection, growing steadily stronger, but still weak. _Luke, I'm safe for now_, the Force whispered to him in Leia's voice. That was the gist of her message, anyway. There was something wrong with it, though. She felt rattled, as if she'd just been through a terrible ordeal. Luke's heart leapt to his throat. What if she was only trying to keep him out of danger?

_I'm coming for you, Leia. I'll see you soon._

There was no definite response, but Luke got the feeling she was trying to warn him away. It was almost as if she was hiding herself. Perhaps the plan had been set in motion and the Emperor was after her.

In that case, Luke had to get to her as soon as he could, without alerting the Emperor.

_Just a few more hours_, he thought with determination, _and I am definitely gone_.

.

* * *

.

Javan wanted to see how Tani Nightrunner was faring. He owed a lot to the woman. She had risked everything to keep the plans safe, and she had remained true to her Alliance oath aboard the Death Star. Without her, without her son, the Alliance's fate would have been grave indeed.

But the Nightrunners had restored hope. They had been brave in the face of danger, they had fought to protect their companions, and now they suffered in silence, not wanting to disturb the others. Javan felt a bitter smile come to his face. Of all the people aboard the _Millennium Falcon_, they were truly the best. He hoped to show them his gratitude.

And maybe if he concentrated on caring for them, he wouldn't have time to think about his family.

He came to the door of the medbay and found it open. Inside, Cal sat at his mother's side, holding her hand in his. Javan was about to announce himself, but just then Tani turned her head toward her son and opened her eyes.

"Cal," she whispered. "It's not working, honey."

Instead of protesting, Cal simply nodded his head. "There's nothing I can do, is there?"

Javan saw tears glistening in Tani's eyes. "No. Not this time."

Cal eyes seemed to fill with every painful emotion imaginable. "I don't know if I can do this, Mom."

"Nonsense. You're strong, you always have been. You just never knew it."

The young man swallowed hard and leaned forward to hug his mother. Javan felt his throat tighten, a wave of guilt washing over him. Though his presence had gone undetected so far, he still felt like an intruder. While smugglers and Sith's daughters bickered elsewhere, a courageous woman was dying.

"I'll miss you," Cal said softly, his voice breaking.

Tani smiled and reached up to stroke her son's hair. "I know, dear. I know." She sighed and sank deeper into the tattered bed pillows. "I need…to rest."

Cal reached over to adjust the pillows. "Okay, Mom."

Javan held his breath, watching the woman as her eyes fluttered, then closed. Her chest continued to rise and fall with her breathing, but he could almost feel her heartbeat slowing down. There was something peaceful and graceful about the whole scene, though. Javan found himself hoping that this was the way his mother had died. Of all the important events in his childhood, that was the only one that entirely eluded his memory.

He wasn't sure how much longer he stood there before Tani passed. Her son did not cry; he laid her hands gently atop her abdomen and pulled the covers up over her face. Then he kneeled down next to the bed and put his face in his hands.

Javan stepped into the medbay quietly and knelt down next to Cal. He bowed his head, paying his respects to the country wife who had given so much for a galaxy she had never seen. He thought of Bail, of his father, of the senators who had walked the palace halls, meeting in secret with their fellow Rebels. They had done so much, and his journey had only begun. He wanted to cry for them, but he found he couldn't. They wouldn't want him to. Bail wouldn't want him to.

In the silence of their memorial, Cal reached over and placed a reassuring hand on Javan's forearm. Their eyes met, and Javan knew in that instant that they would both be all right.

.


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Revelations

Chapter Eighteen: Revelations

* * *

She was alone in the dark cabin, watching the starlines as the _Millennium Falcon_ rocketed through hyperspace. The argument in the ship's commons had disturbed her; even though some of the others had expressed a willingness to accept her, she couldn't help feeling isolated. As she mulled over recent events, Leia removed her mother's necklace and flipped on a dim light to study it.

She wondered if her mother had worn it every day. She hoped so. Besides the droids, this little charm was the only link she had to the woman she so desperately wanted to know. Leia turned the japor snippet over and noticed that there were two tiny words, probably the name of the pendant's creator, carved in cramped script on the bottom. She held the pendant up to the light and read the words.

'_Anakin Skywalker'_

She inhaled sharply. The necklace that had been precious enough for Bail Organa to keep all these years, that had infuriated Darth Vader, had been given to her mother by someone named Anakin Skywalker. Maybe this man had loved Padmé, and Vader was jealous. That might explain his outburst on the Death Star. Or maybe… maybe…

_Of course._

Her breaths came quickly, and her eyes began to swim as she clutched the japor snippet to her heart. "Skywalker," she whispered, and around her the Force seemed to sigh, as if welcoming back an old friend who had been gone too long.

_This is who I am. _

Leia wiped her eyes before the tears could completely spill over. "I'm a Skywalker."

She slipped the necklace back around her neck and tucked it under her tunic. It seemed like a long shot to guess that the name on the pendant was her father's birth name, but she felt the _rightness_ of it, the sense of coming closer to completeness than she had ever been before. That had to mean something.

The cabin door opened, and Captain Solo entered, followed by Javan Madai and Chewbacca, who had to duck to avoid hitting his head and shoulders on the door frame. Leia stood up abruptly and relocated to one of the rear seats.

Han smiled suggestively as he took his seat. "You can stay here; I don't bite."

Leia glared at him icily and lifted her chin. "I'm perfectly comfortable where I am, captain."

"Whatever you say, Your Worshipfulness." Han grinned at Chewie. "Okay, let's bring her down from lightspeed." He glanced back at Leia and mumbled, "Before the cabin freezes over."

The starlines shortened to pinpricks of light as the _Falcon_ dropped out of hyperspace. Leia craned her neck to see what was beginning to fill the cockpit's main viewport.

The gas giant Yavin hung in space like a Muran fire gem, a smooth ball of swirling red and orange particles. Hidden in its shadow was Yavin 4, the lush, habitable moon that the Rebel Alliance had seen fit to use as its base. As the _Millennium Falcon_ passed Yavin and approached the jungle moon, the former Princess of the Empire stood up and peered out the viewport, her expression a mixture of awe and sadness. She could feel life radiating off of Yavin 4. Life and optimism, and a hint of exhilaration.

Though she had spent much of her heavily sheltered existence on Imperial Center – considered by most to be the center of all things progressive – Leia knew with certainty that the vivacity of the city-world was nothing compared to what awaited on the surface of Yavin 4. As on Alderaan, she felt a crispness in the Force, a refreshing mental breeze that filled her senses and left her just a little curious.

_Maybe this is the light side_, she thought. _Pure and unadulterated. _

It wasn't addicting, like her experience on the Death Star. Remnants of her heavy use of the dark side still resonated inside her, haunting her with the fear that she might not be able to attain it again. All her life, she had valued decisiveness: there had hardly ever been a time in her lessons when she had hesitated to act once her mind was made up. The problem now, though, was that she couldn't get past the initial decision. She wasn't sure which side she wanted. She'd told Vader that neither side mattered, that only the Force itself was important. But standing in the _Falcon's_ cockpit, drawing nearer to the beacon of light that was the Rebel base, she began to doubt whether she could continue sampling the two extremes.

Even if she embraced the light, once the Rebels learned her true identity, she doubted they would see her as an ally. Imperial officers could defect by the dozens, but the daughter of Vader was a different matter entirely.

In front of her, Han and Chewbacca moved quickly across the controls as they began their approach. To her left, Javan Madai took a steadying breath and leaned over Han's shoulder.

"Broadcast this signal," the politician said softly, handing Han a small slip of flimsiplast.

Han eyeballed the flimsi and shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you say, Your Grace."

Leia thought she saw the Alderaanian role his eyes at the title. It was good to know she wasn't the only one who found the captain's sarcasm annoying. As if reading her thoughts, Javan looked over and caught her eye. She tried to probe his presence in the Force but found it strangely muted.

_Someone has taught him how to shield himself from Force-users._

_How interesting. _

"Unidentified vessel," the comm unit suddenly blared. Han winced and turned down the volume, muttering curses at the "blasted Imps" who must have tampered with his controls. The voice on the comm continued. "You have the code; please identify its carrier."

Javan dragged his gaze away from Leia and focused on the control panel as Han flipped a switch. "This is Javan Madai of Alderaan aboard the _Millennium Falcon_. I'm carrying information of the utmost importance."

There was a slight pause and then an acknowledging grunt. "We have a match. You are clear to proceed. We're sending coordinates now."

"Copy that." Javan looked over at Han and shrugged. "I didn't even know they had a voice recording to match me to."

"Surprise." Han quirked his mouth in a manner that suggested he was anything but impressed.

As the Falcon descended, Leia spotted a massive stone structure that looked to be thousands of years old. She felt a coldness race through her blood. "That's not it, is it?" she asked, pointing at the pyramidal temple.

Javan nodded. "The base was established inside of the Great Massassi Temple, yes."

"Massassi?" The name triggered memories of Sith history lessons, of sitting in cold rooms with her father, of strange Sith alchemy and never quite understanding why those unnatural abilities had not been grasped by other sects of Dark Jedi. If the Rebels had known of the atrocities committed in that temple in the name of the dark side, she doubted they would have built their base there.

"You know the name?" Javan was watching her carefully, as if waiting for a sign of betrayal. Was he looking for the deranged, evil offspring that Darth Vader should have produced? Was that what he expected to see unleashed?

_So sorry to disappoint you, but I'm no psychopath._ _Not yet, anyway._ Leia let her breath out slowly and smiled, hiding the uneasiness that had crept up on her so suddenly. "It sounds familiar, but I can't say where I've heard it."

"Both of you quit your gabbing and let me land this thing," Han snapped.

Leia shot him a venomous glare and snorted in a most unladylike fashion. She turned to Javan and motioned for him to follow her out of the cockpit. To her surprise, he complied. The door closed behind them, and satisfied that they were alone, Leia spoke in a hushed tone.

"Who trained you to do that?"

Javan looked a little startled. "To do what?"

"Shield your presence in the Force."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Was it a Jedi? Someone close to you?"

"No!" Javan took a step backward. "I've never known anyone who used the Force! What's this all about?"

Leia looked into his dark eyes and thought back to the events on the Death Star just before their escape. "It was _you_, wasn't it? You shot the blast door controls."

"Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with the Force."

"Did you hear it?"

The young man's face darkened as if he'd just realized something distasteful. "The words in my head, the idea to shoot…that was _your _voice?"

Leia crossed her arms. "I tried to send it strong enough to affect those without sensitivity to the Force. I guess it worked, but…" She couldn't be absolutely certain of the conclusion she'd come to, not without a blood test, but if she was right…

Javan, though, had clearly had enough of the conversation. "I have to go," he said curtly, turning to walk away.

Frustration shot through her, and she wrenched him backward with a quick tug of the Force. "Not yet you don't."

"Stop this at once!"

Leia stepped forward and grabbed him by the arm. Though he was more than a good head taller than her, she held him firm. "You could have been a Jedi," she whispered harshly.

"That's absurd." But she could see in his eyes that he was considering the idea. "My only talent is in the political arena."

"Be that as it may, I've sensed something in you. Something more than just a strong mind. You have some ability."

"If I did, the Empire would have killed me long ago."

There was a tired and aching sadness in his voice that humbled Leia just a little. She let go of his arm. "It wouldn't be the first time I've been wrong. But only time will tell." She felt her shoulders sag. The question she'd been mulling over since the argument in the ship's commons nudged its way to the surface. "What are your plans for me once we land?"

Javan stared down at her, his composure restored. "I'm a member of the Alliance to Restore the Republic and the last heir of a noble house that was destroyed by the Empire your served. What would _you_ do in my position?"

Leia knew that the cool veneer she was trying to maintain had turned into a grimace. "I would probably lock you up until such point that your presence was no longer a threat. Given my abilities, that would be a very long time from now." She thought of Alderaan's destruction, of the pain that had echoed inside her, of the voices which had been suddenly and violently silenced. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she tried to force them away. "I never served the Empire. My allegiance was to my father, and now that allegiance is dead."

Javan nodded his head, a hint of understanding in his otherwise impassive features. "I won't divulge your identity," he said at last. "For the sake of the person you might have been under different circumstances."

Instead of relief, a dark sense of emptiness filled Leia. She could only imagine what that person might have been like. Loved and trusted, maybe. And free.

"Thank you," she finally answered, swallowing her brief sorrow. "I know you still don't trust me, but I won't jeopardize the Alliance."

The Alderaanian pursed his lips and nodded his head. "As you said, only time will tell."

.

* * *

.

The _Millennium Falcon_ touched down on Yavin 4 with little fanfare, to Han's mild surprise. What with Javan Madai's droid supposedly carrying the key to defeating the Empire or whatever it was, he thought these Rebels might make a fuss about his arrival. Instead they were met by an easily forgettable technician of some kind who offered them a lift on a repulsorsled. Everyone else outside of the base seemed too busy to even notice them. Javan, Cal, Leia, and Aari climbed onto the first repulsorsled. Han eyed the second one, rolled his eyes at Chewie, and followed his co-pilot, Vic, and the droids onto the sled.

Inside the ancient temple that was serving as the Rebel base, things were even more chaotic than outside. Hoses, tools, and other supplies were scattered throughout the hangar as techs rushed to fix up their scrappy starships. Han watched them work as the sled passed by several Y-wings. He wondered if they realized they didn't have a chance in hell against the Empire's weapon.

The sleds slowed to a stop, and Han stepped off before it had ceased moving. Vic jumped off after him, staring openly at the mechanics who hurried past them. Han glanced at Chewie again and shrugged. As the droids climbed off the sled, Han noticed that Threepio looked particularly out of place. The golden protocol droid's permanently surprised expression seemed even more suited to him as he turned and watched the Rebels go about their work.

"Oh dear," the droid muttered to his companion before shuffling off toward Leia.

Han jerked his head toward the others, and Chewie and Vic followed him over to Leia's group. Like Vic and the droids, Cal and Aari were caught up in the moment, staring at the Rebels who passed by them without a word. Only Javan and Leia appeared at ease. Han wondered why the girl wasn't more nervous about being in an enemy base.

"Javan!" The voice called out from behind one of the Y-wings. A slender, middle-aged man emerged, a relieved expression on his face. "You're safe!"

Javan stepped forward as the man approached. "Vanden Willard?" he asked hesitantly.

The man smiled. "That's right. I wasn't sure if you'd remember me. The last time we met, you had just started serving as a junior member on Bail's advisory council." Willard glanced at the others before he embraced Javan. "When we heard what happened to Alderaan we feared you were lost."

"I almost was, but fortunately I had some help." Javan indicated the group standing behind him. "But we have little time; my droid here is carrying the data for the Empire's new superweapon. I'm certain they're tracking us, so you must hurry."

Han noticed the other man's eyes travel across the group once more, resting a second too long on Leia. He flexed the muscles in his right hand, suddenly agitated.

"Of course," Willard said. "I'll take you to General Dodonna at once. You're friends can follow as well."

"Thank you," Javan replied. He reached out and plucked Veethree from the air before falling into step next to Willard.

As they walked through the base, a few men and women stopped to look at them, murmuring amongst themselves. Han waved at a couple of them, flashing a cocky grin. They nodded at him in turn and went back to their work.

It was good to know these Rebels weren't just a bunch of stiffs.

Cal and Aari stayed close to Javan as they walked, but Leia held back until Han caught up with her. She walked silently beside him, apparently deep in thought. Han smiled to himself.

"So I guess I shouldn't be expecting any credits from your sizable bank account, should I?"

Leia glanced up at him and raised one eyebrow. "You had to ask?"

"I just wanted to check before I hit His Grace up for my money."

She shook her head. "I think he's got better things to worry about."

Han frowned. "Yeah, well I didn't exactly want to run a free shuttle service or end up on the Empire's wanted list. But it happened, and I expect compensation."

"You really are a mercenary, aren't you?"

"Sure, sweetheart. That's me."

Leia gave him one of her condescending looks and lengthened her strides, catching up with Aari and Cal. She didn't even look back.

Vic appeared at Han's left elbow. "You really have a way with women, Solo."

Han glared at him. "Shut up."

.

* * *

.

Vader stood next to Tarkin, watching the tactical display as it sifted through multiple images. The comm came to life as a single diagram replaced the others onscreen.

"We are approaching the planet Yavin," the man on the comm announced. "The rebel base is on the moon on the far side. We are preparing to orbit the planet."

Tarkin inhaled, stroking his chin. "At last we will crush the Rebellion. This day will be celebrated for years to come, Lord Vader."

The man said nothing of Leia's betrayal. A wise move.

Vader examined the display. "First you must win the battle, Tarkin."

"You don't sound very confident. Surely even you must appreciate the power of the Emperor's weapon."

Vader chose not to answer. In all likelihood, the Rebellion would be dead in thirty minutes, and Tarkin would be that much closer to the highest echelons of Imperial authority. It was growing tiresome, dealing with these politicians. Right now he longed to be back on Imperial Center. He longed to see his son.

"Just wait and see, Lord Vader," the grand moff said, interrupting his thoughts. "The Rebellion will die."

* * *

Leia watched from the edge of the briefing room as Rebel pilots began to fill the seats. Even though she wasn't a part of this mission, she still felt compelled to be here, to imagine what it might be like to be a Rebel. Technically she was already a traitor, as low as the rest of these people in the eyes of the Empire. Maybe even lower, considering how far she'd fallen. But it wasn't the same as being part of the Alliance.

"You plannin' on joining these crazies?"

Leia glanced over her shoulder to see who had spoken. Han Solo leaned against one of the many stone pillars that littered the temple. He tossed an amused look at Chewie, who was busy surveying the room. Leia tilted her head, narrowed her eyes, and curled one corner of her lip, dismissing him without a word.

Vic walked up and put his good hand on Han's shoulder. "No harm in seeing what this is all about, right, Solo?"

Han shrugged. "If you say so."

Leia turned away and looked for a seat. She found one between two young men and slid into it as the lights dimmed.

A large vidscreen activated, casting pale white light across the front rows as it queued up the data from Javan Madai's droid. The representative from Alderaan stood off to one side with the other Rebel leaders.

An elderly man in a long coat moved toward the screen, his chin lifted high as he looked out over the gathered Rebels.

"General Dodonna?" someone behind her whispered in surprise.

"Shh!"

Leia studied the man up front, wondering how many other generals the Rebel Alliance had at their disposal.

Dodonna cleared his throat. "By now you are all aware that the battle station that destroyed Alderaan is on its way here. We have very little time."

A small sphere appeared on the screen and grew steadily larger, revealing the Death Star's schematics. For so large and complex a killing machine, the design seemed relatively simple on the screen.

"The battle station" Dodonna continued, "is heavily shielded and carries a firepower greater than half a starfleet. Its defenses are designed around a direct, large-scale assault. A small one-man fighter should be able to penetrate the outer defenses."

"Pardon me for asking, sir, but what good are snub fighters going to be against that?"

"Well, the Empire doesn't consider a small, one-man fighter to be any threat, or they'd have a tighter defense. An analysis of the plans provided by Representative Madai has revealed a weakness in the Death Star's construction, but the approach will not be easy. You are required to maneuver straight down this trench and skim the surface to this point."

Leia frowned as Dodonna indicated that point on the vidscreen.

"The target area," he continued, "is only two meters wide."

A surprised murmur rippled throughout the room. Out of the corner of her eye, Leia saw Han roll his eyes and wave dismissively at something Chewie had said.

"It's a small thermal exhaust port right below the main port. The shaft leads directly to the reactor system. A precise hit will start a chain reaction, which should destroy the station."

The image showed the Death Star exploding from its core.

"Only a precise hit will set off a chain reaction. The shaft is ray shielded, so you'll have to use proton torpedoes."

There another collective murmur of surprise at this bit of information. Leia gathered that these pilots were not accustomed to using proton torpedoes.

"That's impossible, even for a computer." The young man to Leia's right had dark hair and a doubtful but determined look on his face.

The boy to Leia's left leaned forward and smiled at the pilot who had voiced his disbelief. "It's not impossible. My buddies and I used to target womp rats in our T-16s. Damn things aren't that much bigger than two meters, and we could do it blindfolded."

"Tell me," the first man asked, watching Leia out of the corner of his eye. "Were you being shot at by Imperial fighters and heavy turbo lasers when you performed this stunning feat? I think the difference is considerable."

Dodonna froze the image on the vidscreen and gave his pilots a resolute gaze. "Then man your ships, and may the Force be with you."

As the pilots began to disperse, the first man stretched out his hand to the second and cracked a smile. "Wedge Antilles, Corellia. Hope you're right about that exhaust port."

The second man – boy, really – had light blonde hair and a face that could turn heads and probably had. He took Wedge's hand in his. "Me too. Seek Nightrunner, Tatooine. I just joined yesterday." He nodded toward Leia and smiled wide, showing a nice set of teeth that complemented his handsome face. "I don't think you impressed her with your doom and gloom speech."

Leia frowned, ignoring the charm. "I'm sorry, your name is Nightrunner?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a relative named Cal?"

Seek's smile faltered. "You know Cal? Is he okay? What happened to him?"

"He's fine. In fact, I think he's in here somewhere."

"Excuse me." The boy jumped up and started to scan the room. "Cal?" he shouted. "Cal!"

Wedge Antilles chuckled softly and offered Leia his hand. "So where are you from?"

Leia took his hand cautiously and remembered the cover story Javan had rehearsed her on. "Alderaan," she said somberly.

"I'm sorry," Wedge said. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay." She had never felt so guilty about a lie before. "Really, don't worry about it."

Wedge nodded and looked away. "So. Do you have a name?"

"I'm Leia," she started. Her first thought was to finish with Naberrie, the name her father had given her. But as she thought of the inscription on her mother's necklace, a righteous anger filled her. She could have been Leia Skywalker, daughter of Anakin and Padmé. Instead she was Princess Ember, secretly Leia Naberrie, a figure shrouded in mystery because the citizens of the Empire would be horrified to know who her _real _father was.

She would take the name Skywalker, not to honor the man who had gone by that name, for she knew nothing about him. No, she would take the name because it was her right to do so, and she would never let Vader take that from her again. The next time they met, he would have to face the name and the daughter he had cast aside. With that thought firmly in place, Leia gave Wedge a coy smile.

"Leia Skywalker."

.

* * *

.

"Cal!"

At first Cal thought one of his new friends must be looking for him, but after the third time, he realized there was something oddly familiar about that voice.

He stood up from his seat and looked toward the speaker. As he did so, a big smile spread across his face.

"I don't believe it," he laughed. "Seek?"

His cousin ran over and pulled him into a hug. "Cal, how in the worlds did you end up here?"

Cal held his cousin out at arms length and glanced down at the younger man's jump suit. "I could ask you the same thing. You were just on Tatooine."

"So were you."

Cal nodded for Seek to follow him to a more private corner of the room. "Tell me everything."

Seek's expression darkened a little. "Well, I didn't tell you before, but I've been looking for a way to join the Rebellion since last year. I actually talked to Biggs about it, and he told me he was planning on jumping ship as soon as he could."

"You're kidding?"

"No, he was going to contact me when he did. But when I found out about your parents, I couldn't wait any longer. I asked him for his Rebel contacts, and now here I am."

Cal frowned. "But what about Biggs? I didn't see him here."

"He's with another group of Rebels, on some mission. Something big is going down in the Core, but no one would tell us about it."

Cal punched Seek playfully in the shoulder. "Well, of course not, you're just a new recruit." The weight of everything that had happened the last few days returned, settling on his heart. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again. I left to find Mom. She was a Rebel."

"I know, Dad told me."

Cal nodded, glancing up at the ceiling to withhold the tears. "She's dead. I guess I'm finishing what she started." He shook his head and clapped Seek on the back before his cousin could say anything. "Hey, I'm gonna be right up there with you."

"You're kidding!" Seek grabbed Cal's sleeve. "Better get some proper clothes, then."

"Yeah." He caught a glimpse of Leia walking past Han, Chewie, and Vic. "Boy, have I got some wild stories to tell you."

Seek nodded. "You tell me everything the minute we get back."

"Sure. Hey, I'd better go get ready. Find me before we leave, okay?"

Seek hugged him again. "I will."

Cal sighed as his cousin hurried away. It didn't change the fact that his parents were dead, but there was a great deal of comfort in being reunited with his only cousin after everything that had happened.

"Hey!"

Leia's voice broke into his thoughts. "Uh, hi," he said quietly, looking to see if there was anyone else she might have been addressing. The room, for the most part, had emptied.

"I know we haven't really had a chance to talk," Leia started. "But I heard you were going to be flying with the others. I was wondering if you'd like to borrow Artoo."

"What? I mean, don't you need him?"

Leia shrugged. "I was told there are no more fighters available. There are a few damaged ones, but there's not enough time to get them running." She tried to smile. "Besides, I'm not sure Javan would approve of me flying with the others."

"Oh, I don't know. He seems like a good person."

"He is. So you want my Artoo?"

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. I don't trust these Alliance droids." She smiled, a genuine one this time. "Artoo will take care of you."

Cal offered his hand. Leia reached out and shook it.

"Thanks," he said. "I mean it."

Leia squeezed his hand. "I know you do."

.

* * *

.

Aari was loading her reward onto a cart when she saw Leia coming toward her. "Hey," she called out, leaning against the cart. "So, are you coming with us?"

Leia smiled. "No, I'm going to stick around. See what happens with this battle."

Aari glanced over at the Rebel pilots who were preparing for launch. She thought she saw Cal in the distance. "The odds are definitely in the Empire's favor."

Leia nodded. "I know that, but I need to stay for this. I can feel it."

"Yeah, I'll bet you do. Crazy Jedi powers." She knew Leia would object to that label, so she held up a stopping hand before the other woman could say anything. "It's been interesting, Princess. Be safe."

"I'll try." Leia extended her hand and smiled. "I'm glad to have met you, Aari."

"Me too." She shook Leia's hand and then watched her stroll over to where Han and Chewie were loading their portion of the money. Aari propped her elbows on the cart handle and studied the princess and the smuggler.

"I see you got your reward," Leia said quietly.

Han spared her a short glance. "That's right. Finally."

"You're not even concerned about what happens to the others? You know the odds they're facing."

Han lifted a case from the stack and placed it on the cart. "Why don't you come with us? That lightsaber thing is pretty handy in a tight spot."

"They could use another pilot. Another good ship."

Han quirked one eyebrow. "Now she's a good ship, huh?" He looked over in Aari's direction for a moment before turning back to Leia. Aari tried to disguise the fact that she was eavesdropping by whistling as she fiddled with her cart.

Leia shook her head. "You're really going to leave?"

Han picked up another case and loaded it onto the cart. "What good's a reward if you ain't around to use it? Besides, this attack is pure suicide."

"Of course you'd say that," Leia replied evenly, though Aari suspected she was hurt deep down. "A mercenary like you wouldn't understand the kind of courage their actions require."

"If you say so, Princess."

Leia seemed to study his face intently. Then she let out a sigh. "I guess this is where we part ways. Take care of yourself, Han." She nodded politely and turned to walk away.

"Hey, Leia."

Leia stopped and looked back at him. There was something painfully childlike about her face in that moment.

Han attempted to smile. "May the Force be with you."

The princess nodded again and walked away.

Aari watched Leia disappear among the mass of pilots and technicians. She recognized the emotion that was gnawing at her heart; it felt like shame. To her left, Chewie rumbled something that Aari sensed was disapproval.

Han glanced over his shoulder and scowled. "What are you looking at? I know what I'm doing." He punctuated that statement by laying the next case none too gently on the cart. "I'm not the crazy one here," he muttered under his breath.

Aari looked down at the cases of credits. "I wonder if we'll ever see her again."

Han grunted. "I wouldn't count on it, kid."

They finished loading in silence as the Rebel fighters began climbing into their cockpits.

.

* * *

.

Javan stood silently before the war room's upright display screen. Several small points of light were steadily approaching a much larger one; he tried to imagine being in the cockpit of one of those ships, watching the Death Star fill the canopy. He should have been out there with them. He would have been, but according to Commander Willard, the only remaining ships were still damaged from a recent firefight. He hadn't exactly given the Alliance an advance warning about the upcoming battle. It was a miracle that so many fighters were in good enough condition to fly now.

Javan turned and glanced over at the room's central display. Vic was watching the two-dimensional image, rubbing absently at his sling. Leia's protocol droid stood next to him, and on the other side of the droid was the princess herself. She looked up and met his eyes across the room. Javan nodded and approached the ring that encircled the flat display, Veethree buzzing at his side. The little droid seemed content now that it was out of immediate danger.

"Standby alert," a synthetic voice warned. "Death Star approaching. Estimated time to firing range: fifteen minutes."

Javan looked around the circle, catching Dodonna's eye. The general nodded, his lips pressed tight in a grim line.

All they could do now was wait.

.


	20. Chapter Nineteen: The Battle of Yavin

Chapter Nineteen: The Battle of Yavin

* * *

Free of the planet's atmosphere, the two squadrons of Rebel fighters began their approach. Cal felt his hands sweat inside his gloves as he gripped the stick. He had never flown a ship in space before, but Seek swore it was just like flying the T-16s they had on Tatooine. Only this wasn't Tatooine, and if he screwed up here he would die.

His cockpit brightened with the deep orange glow of Yavin, and Cal took a second to look up at the gas giant as they flew past it.

"All wings report in," Red Leader ordered over the comm.

"Red Ten, standing by."

"Red Seven, standing by."

Cal turned his eyes forward, and as the other pilots sounded off, he saw the dark shape of the Death Star emerge from the planet's shadow. They were still far enough away that he couldn't make out the battle stations many spires, trenches, and lights. He couldn't see the hangar bays or even the smooth, circular depression that he assumed was the source of the Death Star's massive turbo laser. For a moment he could almost believe it was just a moon.

"Red Two, standing by."

"Red Eleven, standing by."

Cal swallowed hard and returned his attention to the X-wing. "Red Five, standing by."

Red Leader's voice came over the comm again. "Lock S-foils in attack position."

Cal obeyed immediately, blood pumping through his veins so fast he thought he might faint. He braced himself for the next stage of their attack and nearly jumped out of his skin when the ship started to vibrate. His first thought was that they'd been caught in the Death Star's tractor beam, but Red Leader quickly put those fears to rest.

"We're passing through the magnetic field. Hold tight! Switch your deflectors on, double front."

Cal scanned the controls and flipped on the deflectors. He readjusted his grip on the stick and licked his lips.

"Look at the size of that thing!" a voice broke in. It sounded like the Corellian pilot Seek had introduced him to.

"Cut the chatter, Red Two," their leader ordered. "Accelerate to attack speed."

Cal increased speed as the X-wings ahead of him started to pull away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Y-wing squadron begin their descent toward the battle station.

"This is it, boys," Red Leader said.

Cal took several deep breaths as he awaited his next order. He didn't care what Seek said – so far, this was definitely _not _like piloting a T-16.

"Red Leader, this is Gold Leader."

"I copy, Gold Leader."

"We're starting for the target shaft now."

"We're in position," Red Leader replied. "I'm going to cut across the axis and try to draw their fire."

Cal took another long breath and followed his squadron as they spiraled down toward the Death Star's surface.

.

* * *

.

Mara awoke to the almost silent sound of air being recycled through the palace filtration system, her skin cool with sweat and her danger sense sending warning spikes up her spine. She threw back the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed, ready to spring. After a few seconds, when the only thing she could hear beside the vent was her own quiet breathing, she reached out for her master's presence.

Nearly one hundred floors above, she felt the Emperor's lifeforce: calm, still, pleased. As if he was experiencing a good dream. She wondered why he hadn't felt whatever had woken her up, and for a moment she considered calling to him through their bond.

_You've been off ever since that assassin showed up_, she scolded herself. _Jumping at the slightest thing. Go back to bed._

But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place. Her skin crawled, and Mara instinctively pulled her lightsaber out from under her pillow, holding it tight in her left hand as she reached underneath the bed and rummaged around for a handheld light. With a gentle push she lifted herself off of the bed and padded across the room to the closet where she stored the rest of her gear. Without setting the saber or the light down, she slipped on a jacket and a pair of loose-fitting pants, then pulled on her boots.

As Mara stepped out of her quarters, she probed the surrounding area in the Force. Below her she felt Luke in his quarters, restless and troubled.

_Stop it. _

She moved on, feeling for anything unusual. The Emperor still seemed to be asleep, and six of his royal guards were stationed on either side of the main door to his quarters. All was well.

But there was no harm in checking anyway.

Mara readjusted her grip on her lightsaber and walked to the end of the hall, running the fingers of her left hand along the wall panels until she found a slight indentation in the wood. The abnormality was only a centimeter in diameter; it was virtually impossible to find unless one knew where to look for it. Mara pressed her hands over the spot and closed her eyes, extending her senses beyond the panel to a pressure-sensitive switch within the wall. A small nudge with the Force was all it took to activate the switch. Down the hall, one of the square floor panels slid under the wall, revealing a cramped passageway.

Mara smirked. She still felt an odd sort of pleasure every time she used the palace's hidden passages. The sensation vanished, however, as she lowered herself under the floor and began crawling along the tunnel on her hands and knees. The floor panel closed behind her with a quiet _hiss_. Her danger sense flared up again, although she still couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary in her vicinity.

After crawling for a hundred meters, she reached a point where she could stand up. The tunnel came to a dead-end here, in front of a small turbolift that only opened in this tunnel and in one of the Emperor's personal passageways. The keypad was covered by a scanner; Mara pressed her thumb against the screen, and the cover slid back, revealing an alpha-numeric pad. She entered the eighteen-digit code, and almost immediately the elevator doors opened.

The ascent was fairly quick. The lift had taken her to the level just below her master's living quarters. The series of corridors she found herself in – when navigated correctly – led to the Emperor's private turbolift. The tingling pressure in her brain warned her that something was definitely not right, so she proceeded down the corridor, mentally rehearsing the order of lefts and rights she would need to take.

Mara rounded the first corner and found herself facing seven black-clad figures emerging from a blasted wall panel. Her lightsaber ignited a fraction of a second before seven blasters opened fire.

_This_, she thought as she threw herself back around the corner, _is not my night._

_.  
_

* * *

.

Aidan's eyes snapped open as he bolted upright in bed. For a second he couldn't remember where he was, but then the events of the last few days came flooding back. He twisted his head and scanned the room, using his heightened senses to see what his eyes could not.

_Weird_, he thought, realizing that nothing was amiss in his new rooms. _What woke me up?_

A flash of realization hit him, and he practically flew out of bed, grabbing the lightsaber the Emperor had given him. Without thinking about where he was going, he ran from his rooms and made for the nearest turbolift.

.

* * *

.

Turbo laser blasts flashed around his cockpit as Cal swerved between the Death Star's defense towers. He heard several voices crackle across the comm, firing out warnings and orders that ran together in an incoherent buzz. Cal narrowed his eyes and flew past another tower, shooting at the surface.

"Watch it—"

"—heavy fire—"

"—twenty-three degrees—"

"I see it! Stay low." That last voice was Seek's. It called out to him like a beacon. Cal checked his scanner, searching for his cousin's signal.

"Cal! Pull up!"

Cal yanked back on the stick, narrowly avoiding an explosion on the station's surface.

"You alright? Cal?"

He swore under his breath as his instruments went haywire. There was a chuckle across the comm.

"What was that, Red Five?"

Cal smirked as his instruments returned. "Nothing, Red Three."

Seek pulled alongside Cal's wing, close enough that Cal could make out his cousin's features. "Good, then let's get those towers."

.

* * *

.

Darth Vader strode quickly down the corridor toward his hangar, sensing the Rebel fighters as they continued their assault. He shook his head angrily, imagining the verbal lashing he would give Tarkin next time he saw him. No threat, indeed. The man had never been a true starpilot. He didn't know anything of the pilot's bravery, his tenacity, his disregard for the odds. Tarkin didn't understand, but Vader did. Those Rebel fighters might be small in number, but it would only take one to turn the tables on them. As he came to the hangar wing, he saw Commander Brage hurrying toward him. Vader held up a stopping hand.

"Yes, I know. We'll have to destroy them ship to ship. Get the crews to their fighters."

The commander bowed. "It is already done, my lord."

Vader replied with a nod. When this was all over, he would have to promote the man. True initiative was becoming far too rare, and it needed to be rewarded wherever possible.

The Dark Lord continued down the corridor toward the bay that held his own fighter. He felt like flexing his muscles; it had been too long since he'd flown in combat. Far too long.

.

* * *

.

If possible, the number of lasers crisscrossing Cal's ship had increased. He tried to get as close to the towers as he could, but it was becoming more difficult.

"Watch yourself," Red Leader warned. "There's a lot of fire coming from the right side of that deflection tower."

"Yes, sir," Cal replied, dodging another blast.

"I'm going in," Wedge said. "Cover me, Porkins."

Two X-wings screamed past Cal, heading for the tower. "I'm right with you, Red Two," Porkins answered.

Wedge took out the tower and went after the next one. Cal and Seek formed up and followed after him and Porkins, emboldened by Wedge's daring maneuvers.

"I've got a problem here," Porkins muttered as his fighter veered off course.

"Watch out!" Wedge yelled.

"I can hold it," the other pilot insisted. He was flying into the path of another tower.

"Porkins!"

"Eject!" Seek shouted.

"No, I'm alright—"

The lasers from the tower caught Porkins, blowing his ship apart. Cal stared in shock at the explosion. "Stars," he whispered.

"Snap out of it, Red Five," Red Leader said. "We've got seven minutes, so let's clear the way for Gold Squadron."

"Copy, Red Leader." Cal and Seek charged the turret that had killed Porkins, firing at it from both sides. The tower exploded, showering Cal's cockpit with sparks that quickly died. They continued to plow through another turret, shooting not only at the guns but at the surface as well.

A transmission from Base cut across the channel. "Squad leaders, we've picked up a new group of signals. Enemy fighters coming your way."

Cal checked his readings. "My scope's negative."

"Pick up your visual scanning," Red Leader ordered. "Here they come."

A squadron of enemy TIE fighters appeared overhead and dove toward them. Cal broke off his attack on the towers and moved to intercept. They were fast, faster than his X-wing. By the time he had one in his sights, the blasted thing had already eluded him.

"I'm hit!" one of the Reds yelled before his ship crashed.

"Watch it, Red Three," Red Leader said. "You've got one on your tail."

"I can't see it!" Seek said in a panic. His craft was wobbling back and forth as he tried to get a visual on the TIE.

Cal angled toward his cousin. "I'm coming, Seek." He lined up behind the enemy ship. "I've got him, now dive!"

Seek dove straight for the surface, and as the TIE followed, Cal flew up beneath it and fired. The ship broke apart as though it were a toy.

Cal smiled. "Maybe they'll reconsider those shields, huh?"

Seek blew out a relieved breath. "Thanks, Cal."

.

* * *

.

"Lord Vader, we have an update on the Rebel starfighters."

Vader pulled the comlink from his belt. "Go ahead, Commander."

"A squadron of Y-wing fighters has left the main attack group and his heading for the equatorial trench."

Vader smirked under his cowl. He was going to enjoy this. "Thank you, Commander. Order your fighters to continue their current assault. I will deal with the trench."

"Yes, my lord."

As Vader approached his private hangar, he saw two of his elite TIE pilots standing by. They snapped to attention at the sight of him.

"Several fighters have broken off from the main group. Come with me."

.

* * *

.

Leia stared down at the display, but she wasn't really seeing it so much as seeing _through_ it. She could feel the Rebel pilots out there, dying one by one.

"Watch your back, Cal!" one of the pilots warned. Leia tried to pinpoint Cal's location, but the battle was too confused, and she didn't know his presence well enough to find him.

"I'm hit, but it's not bad," Cal answered. "Artoo, have you got it under control?"

She didn't hear the rest of his exchange because another transmission broke in.

"Red Four, where are you?"

"Red Six, can you see Red Four—?"

"—there's a heavy firestorm—"

"Red Four!"

"I can't shake—"

Static hissed over the comm as Red Four's signal went dead. Leia felt the level of desperation in the room rise, felt the beginnings of panic in her own heart as she realized they only had six minutes before the Death Star was in range.

"Red Leader, this is Gold Leader. We're starting our attack run."

Every being in the room seemed to take a collective breath, bracing themselves as the pilots of Gold Squadron moved into position. Leia watched the lights on the upright display, watched the signals of the Y-wings converge on the Death Star's equator. There was more chatter across the comm, but a low beeping caught her attention.

"How many guns do you think, Gold Five?"

Leia ignored them, returning her gaze to the flat display, the one that was tracking the battle station.

"The Death Star will be in range in five minutes," the computer said. Leia gripped the edge of the display, knuckles white. It wasn't enough time. Even if the Force was on their side, it wasn't enough time.

Then she sensed a new presence, a brilliant darkness that threatened to swallow everything around it, and she knew all hope was lost now. The Rebel starpilots might be good, might even be great – but they were no match for Darth Vader.

For the first time since leaving home, she knew exactly what she had to do.

As she sprinted out of the war room, she saw a few Rebels, including Javan, give her startled looks, but she didn't have time to explain.

Leia ran into the hangar, looking for the X-wing she'd seen earlier, the one with the broken rear stabilizer. Of all the damaged fighters, that one had seemed the most capable of flying. Spotting it on the opposite side of the hangar, she forced herself to run faster, to get there before it was too late to do anything.

"Hey, Princess!"

She didn't look up when Han shouted after her to ask just what the hell she was doing. It occurred to her that he should have been long gone, but the thought vanished almost as quickly as it had come. The X-wing was her focus, was the only thing she could allow herself to think of. She'd never flown one, not even a simulator, and for all her skills, she had been rather lax when it came to fighter combat. Piloting a damaged ship into a live firefight was not going to be easy.

Using the Force to augment her movements, she vaulted into the open cockpit, to the surprise of the technician who was tinkering with the stabilizer casing.

"Get that closed in three seconds," Leia told him, "or you're space waste." She grabbed the helmet that was on the seat, strapped herself in, and pressed a button to close the hatch.

"Hey, she's not fixed yet!"

Leia looked out at the technician and smiled as the canopy sealed around her. In four minutes, it wouldn't matter. She started the ship's engines and steered her toward the opening at the end of the hangar.

.

* * *

.

As he tried to shake his tail, Cal saw the Y-wings disappear into the trench.

"The guns," one of the Gold pilots said. "They've stopped!"

"Stabilize your rear deflectors. Watch for enemy fighters."

Cal's computer beeped at him urgently, and he circled about, trying to lose the TIE behind him.

"Red Five, watch it!"

"I know, I can't shake him!" Cal dropped toward one of the towers, hoping the other ship would be caught in its fire, but the TIE stayed tight on his trail. "Seek!"

"I'm on him, Cal," Wedge said calmly. "Hold on."

Cal swung away from the towers, and as he did so, Wedge came charging toward him, nearly clipping his wings. He blasted the TIE apart and flew right through the wreckage.

Cal let out the breath he'd been holding. "Thanks, Wedge."

"Blast!" Seek yelled over the comm. Cal looked to see if he was in trouble, but as he did so an explosion caught his eye. Pieces of twisted metal flew up out of the trench, and three TIE fighters followed after it.

Red Eight gasped audibly. "Gold Squadron is _gone_."

"Red boys, this is Red Leader. We've got three minutes. Rendezvous at five six point one."

"Red Three, standing by." Seek gritted out, his voice choked and angry.

"Red Leader, this is Base One," General Dodonna interrupted. "Leave half your group out of range for the next run."

"Copy, Base One," Red Leader replied. "Wedge, take Reds Three and Five and wait up here for my signal to start your run."

Cal swallowed what little moisture remained in his mouth as Red Leader took Reds Eightand Ten and descended toward the trench.

"This is it," Red Leader called out.

Cal followed Wedge and Seek to a point high above the station where they could monitor for TIE fighter. So far the only things he could see were the X-wings in the trench and the occasional lance of emerald-colored energy from the turrets. They were fairly easy to avoid from this distance.

"There's too much interference," Red Ten commented. "Red Two, can you see those fighters from where you are?"

"No sign yet… wait! Coming in at point three five."

"I see them."

Red Leader's signal was nearing the target. Cal tried to move in for a better look, aware that he'd have to make a break for it once the torpedoes were fired.

The three TIE fighters were bearing down on Reds Eightand Ten. The middle TIE was of a slightly different design, and it was moving out in front of its wingmates. It shot off two laser blasts that ripped through Red Eight, sending him crashing against the bottom of the trench.

"They're right behind me!" Red Ten's voice was panicked.

"Almost there," Red Leader murmured.

Cal felt his insides twist as the lead TIE fighter caught up to Red Tenand fired.

"I can't hold them—"

Static hissed over the comm for a second before Red Leader interrupted with, "It's away!"

The target shaft was engulfed in a brilliant explosion. Cal turned his ship toward space, ready to flee.

"It's a hit!" Seek shouted.

"Negative," Red Leader answered, sounding a little dazed. "Negative. It didn't go in. Just pecked it on the surface."

As Red Leader tried to come around for a second attempt, the lead TIE fighter latched onto his tail and fired. Wedge responded first.

"Red Leader, we're right above you. Turn to point oh five—"

"No, stay there, boys. I just lost my starboard engine."

They were all silent as the TIE swooped in for the kill.

"Get set up for your attack run."

The enemy ship shot three more times, and Red Leader screamed defiantly for a few seconds before his X-wing smashed into the battle station in a blinding flash of white.

.


	21. Chapter Twenty: The Gauntlet

Chapter Twenty: The Gauntlet

* * *

It took Cal a moment to snap out of his daze at Red Leader's death.

"Red Group," Dodonna's voice crackled through the comm speaker. "You have two minutes remaining."

"Copy, Base One," Wedge answered. "Cal, Seek, let's finish this. We're going in full throttle, everything you've got."

"We're with you, boss," Seek acknowledged.

Cal wasn't sure if he should voice his concerns, but he decided to take a chance as they descended toward the trench. "Going at that speed will we be able to pull out in time?"

Seek laughed. "Don't worry about it, Cal. It'll be just like Beggar's Canyon."

Cal _hated _Beggar's Canyon. "Here goes," he muttered.

The three fighters leveled off in the trench and accelerated to full speed, avoiding laser fire from the towers ahead.

"We'll stay back to cover you," Seek said, dropping back a bit to allow Wedge some room. Cal followed his cousin's lead. He kept an eye out for the fighters, but the cannons were still firing. Where had those three TIEs gone?

A laser blast clipped Cal's wing, and his ship wobbled dangerously close to the wall of the trench.

"Watch yourself, Cal!"

"I'm okay." Cal checked his ship's vitals. "Artoo, the rear stabilizer's coming loose."

The droid's response popped up on the monitor, and Cal smiled. He really was a good little robot.

"Wedge, are you sure the computer can even hit the target?" Seek's question seemed to echo in Cal's cockpit as he waited for Wedge's response.

It took a few seconds, but when it came, Wedge's voice was calm. "We're about to find out."

Before Seek could remark further, the turbo lasers stopped firing. Cal twisted his head instinctively to look behind him; when that failed, he checked his scanner.

"Fighters, coming in at point oh three," Seek said.

The three TIE fighters quickly closed the gap between them, putting their craft in firing range of the two X-wings. Again, the middle TIE pulled out just ahead of his wingmates.

Cal felt a swell of panic. "Artoo, we need more speed. See if you can increase the power."

In his peripheral vision he saw an explosion, and when he glanced over at Seek he saw a stream of fire and sparks flying out of the ship.

"I'm hit!" His cousin sounded equal parts shocked and afraid.

"Clear out, Seek," Wedge ordered. "You can't stay with us."

"No, I can stay, I'm alright!"

"Get out, that's an order!"

There was a pause and then a frustrated sigh. "Right," Seek said, pulling out of the trench. "I'm sorry, Cal."

Cal took a deep breath. Seek was the adventurer, the ace pilot of the family. Now he was out of the picture, and it was up to Cal to hold off three enemy ships or else the Rebellion was doomed.

_What would Mom do?_

He gritted his teeth, remembering her last moments on the _Falcon_. That thought was all the motivation he needed.

"Artoo, I need more power, whatever you can give me. Try to direct any unnecessary energy to the engines."

Artoo replied that he already had.

"Great." Cal watched the signals of the enemy fighters draw closer. "Come on," he muttered at Wedge. "Get up there."

"Cal, look out!" Wedge yelled. "Another ship coming in!"

The ship swooped into the trench, nestling right behind Cal. "Don't worry," a familiar voice reassured. "I've got you covered."

Cal couldn't hide his relief. "Leia!"

"I'll hold them off," she replied. "You get to that exhaust, Wedge."

"You got it."

.

* * *

.

Vader clenched his fist around the controls. It was Leia in that X-wing. It was _his_ daughter flying with the Rebels.

How _dare_ she?

"Black Three, come with me," he growled. "Black Two, you stay on the leader, no matter what."

"Yes, sir," the two pilots answered in unison.

Vader pulled back on the stick and emerged from the trench. From up here he could see the lead X-wing speeding toward its target. Vader accelerated to full speed, his wingmate close on his tail. They flew over Leia and her Rebel friend, locking sights on the leader. As he expected, Leia immediately abandoned the trench and raced to intercept him. The other Rebel followed Leia, leaving their leader alone with Black Two.

So predictable.

"The way is clear, Black Two," Vader said. "The Empire is counting on you."

"I won't fail you, my lord."

Vader smiled tightly.

_I have you now._

_.  
_

* * *

.

Luke felt the mental prick that he associated with danger, and he quietly set his bag on the floor and unclipped his lightsaber. He walked along the corridor, listening and probing for anything out of the usual. He was about one hundred levels below the Emperor's quarters, and if his information was correct, that meant Mara's rooms were only a few levels above his present position. He reached out for her presence, wondering if she had sensed the danger, too.

When he realized that Mara was not only awake but also much closer to the Emperor's suite than normal, Luke began to jog toward the nearest turbolift. He stretched out further with the Force, taking inventory of the number of lifeforms near the Emperor. He sensed the six royal guards, four outside the bedchamber, two inside. There were several other beings – guards, Luke assumed – scattered throughout the area. Everything seemed alright, except for the incessant nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

Mara was on the move; she was now only one level below the Emperor. As Luke focused in on her presence to follow her progress, he sensed a group of lifeforms on the same floor. He felt Mara's alarm as she went on the defensive. Without realizing it, Luke began sprinting toward the turbolift. He waited impatiently for the lift to arrive, feeling a wave of fear roil off of Mara as she clashed with the group. The door opened, and Luke scrambled inside, pressing the button for Mara's floor. The lift prompted him for an access code, which he gave quickly. As the lift ascended, he sensed Mara's surprise.

_I'm coming, Mara!_

The lights flickered, and the lift came to an abrupt halt. "No!" he shouted, slamming his fist against the buttons. He was still two levels down from where he needed to be. The lights went out completely, throwing the prince into darkness. Luke imagined he could hear the sound of blaster fire and the hum of a single lightsaber somewhere above. Fear for Mara and for the security of the palace welling up in him, Luke ignited his own saber, the green light giving the lift an eerie quality. He tried using the Force to open the doors, but the complicated lift design wouldn't allow for the doors to open without power. Growling angrily, Luke plunged his lightsaber into the durasteel ceiling.

Above him, he sensed that Mara was struggling to fend off the attackers. She must have met them in the narrowest part of the corridor, where it was easiest to fend off larger numbers. Unfortunately, if Luke remembered correctly, that corridor would also provide ample cover for the attackers while they took turns at Mara.

_I should have taken one of the other hidden passages_, Luke thought as he carved a hole out of the ceiling. _Why aren't the guards helping her?_

As if in answer to his question, Luke felt another person enter the fray. A split second later, one of the intruders fell, their lifeforce fading away. Luke finished his circle and stood aside as the heated metal dropped to the floor. He looked up the shaft and saw that the level he wanted was a few meters above the top of the lift. He could open those doors with the Force, he was sure. Another attacker fell as Luke pried the doors apart with a violent tug of the Force. He propelled himself up the shaft and into the exposed corridor, lightsaber blazing.

The moment his feet touched ground he was already hurtling down the hallway. Smoke filled the air, eclipsing the emergency lights; someone screamed out in the darkness.

"Mara!" Luke called, pushing himself to run faster. He still couldn't see her though the smoke, but in his mind's eye he saw her crumpled on the floor, clutching her leg and reaching for a lightsaber that was no longer there. He saw a blaster aimed at her heart.

"_No!_" He threw his body forward, slicing his saber in a downward arc. Through the haze, Luke saw half a blaster clatter to the floor, and in the space of a heartbeat a violet-colored whirlwind impaled Mara's attacker. Luke flinched at the sight, staring in disbelief as the stranger with the amethyst blade went back to blocking laser bolts.

A quiet moaning caught Luke's attention, and he spotted Mara lying on the floor, barely conscious. He knelt at her side and saw that she'd suffered a bad wound to her left thigh and a blow to the head. Sensing that the man with the lightsaber was tiring, Luke scooped Mara into his arms – despite her half-murmured protests – and took her around the corner and out of harm's way. He returned to the neck of the corridor, where the stranger had just taken out two more of the intruders.

A blaster bolt streaked by Luke's head, and when one of the remaining three intruders cried out, he realized that the royal guards had arrived at last. The smoke was beginning to clear, and Luke saw a woman fall to the floor.

"Rabé!" a younger woman screamed as the last intruder – a tall, husky man – dragged her toward the door of a hidden passageway that Luke didn't recognize. The girl kicked and struggled to break free, but to no avail.

"She's gone, Seda!" the man shouted, and they both disappeared through the door. The royal guards raced to cut the attackers off.

The man with the violet lightsaber collapsed to the ground, exhausted. Luke noticed that he was pressing his hand against a wound in his side.

"Luke?" came a hoarse whisper through the clamor of the retreating guards. He thought it was Mara at first, but the voice was accented and very weak. It took him a moment to realize it was the woman who had been shot, the one called Rabé. She moaned as she extended her hand, staring at Luke as if she thought she knew him. Her eyes lit up when he responded to her call. "It _is_ Luke, after all."

Luke walked over and dropped to her side, transfixed by the way she seemed to recognize him. No one outside of the palace should even know his true name. "Who are you?" he whispered, wondering if this might be another of his bizarre visions. She spoke his name so tenderly, not like someone who would have tried to kill him.

The older woman smiled. "I wasn't sure if she still liked the name," she murmured, her rich accent touching a chord in Luke's heart. Her dark eyes were glazing over. "It had been so long since I'd talked to her, you see. But she always loved the name Luke. It means 'light,' and that's what you would have been to her."

"Who?" he urged. But the woman was already gone, her unfocused eyes looking past Luke, past the palace. The smile still clung to her lips.

He sat in stunned silence for a moment. He sensed movement behind him, and when he finally turned around, he saw the red-haired stranger crawling over to Mara.

"Hey!" Luke snapped, standing up. The man stopped and glanced up at him. As he did so, Mara stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

"Damnit, Shade," she grumbled, turning to look at Luke. "What took you so long?"

He gave her a faint grin. "You wanted my help?"

"Don't flatter yourself." Mara noticed the stranger near her. "Wasn't expecting to see _you_ here."

Luke frowned. "You know him?"

Mara exchanged a look with the stranger. "This is Aidan Rennal, the Emperor's newest servant."

Rennal nodded. "You must be the prince." He winced and examined his side.

Luke sighed. "I need to get the two of you to the medbay. Come on."

As Mara allowed Luke to lift her off the floor, he felt something pummel his senses, nearly knocking him from his feet.

It was Leia.

"Luke?" Mara's voice was far away as he fell against the wall. Leia was in danger, but it was more than that. He sensed something else, something darker…

"_No_," he whispered.

"Luke, what is it?"

_Father._

She was with their father, but something was wrong. The threads that tied them together… he could feel them unraveling, breaking apart in places, weakened by burning rage, cold determination, and betrayal. Though it felt like Leia and his father were only a short distance from each other, they had never been further apart. Whatever was happening, they were against one another now, possibly locked in a life or death struggle.

And he was helpless to stop it.

"Leia," he whispered. "Hear me."

She didn't answer.

.

* * *

.

Leia felt Cal coming up alongside her. She thought about telling him to break off, but she was honestly glad he'd come after her. She was about to fire on her own father, and even with everything that had happened, that was still a frightening thought.

"Cal, you take the one on the right." Leia closed her eyes for a moment and tried to release her anxiety. "I'm on the leader."

"Right."

Leia opened her eyes and locked onto Vader's signal. She fired several shots that came close to his wing. He dodged them easily, although she wasn't sure if it was his skill or her own reluctance that had spared him a more critical blow. She had to distract him long enough to keep him away from Wedge. The TIE in the trench would probably catch up to him, but she could tell from the way he handled his ship that he was the more experienced pilot. With Vader out of the picture, the Rebels would succeed. She wouldn't have to kill her father.

That didn't mean he wouldn't kill her, though.

She could feel him prowling around the edges of her mind. His dark, hazy presence, unreadable as always, closed off but still potent. The power hammered at her senses, demanding that she submit.

_Never_.

This time her laser fire exploded above his cockpit, burning off at least one layer of metal that glowed red for a second before being smothered by the vacuum. Vader didn't swerve or correct his course. He simply kept flying, accelerating forward. He wasn't afraid of her.

Of course he wasn't afraid.

Cal stayed close to Leia's wing, firing on his target. The TIEs were already widening the gap between them, moving too fast for them to catch. A few more seconds and they would be beyond reach of their cannons.

As she watched the glow of the ion engines grow steadily smaller and begin to dip back toward the trench, Leia realized her mistake.

"They're out of range!" Cal said in a panic. "I can't keep up!"

A burst of wicked satisfaction filled the Force around her. She watched helpless as Vader and his wingman dove straight at Wedge's X-wing.

The Alliance was lost.

.

* * *

.

"I can't keep up!"

Cal's static-edged voice echoed in the otherwise silent control room. There was nothing anyone could say or do now to affect the battle. Leia's presence had offered a brief ray of hope, but now it all came down to who had better aim – the TIE fighters or Wedge Antilles.

Javan gripped the edge of the display, staring along with the others at the wedge of red light that had enveloped the tiny circle representing Yavin 4. The display began to flash and beep.

"The Death Star has cleared the planet."

Javan glanced up at Dodonna and held his breath. He thought he heard someone chanting a prayer.

"The Death Star has cleared the planet."

.

* * *

.

"Rebel base in range."

Grand Moff Tarkin allowed himself a cold smile of satisfaction as he turned to General Bast. "You may fire when ready."

Bast nodded and signaled to the man at the comm.

"Commencing primary ignition," the gunnery officer replied over the comm. Somewhere deep within the battle station, the energy for the turbo laser was building.

Tarkin smiled again. Yes, this would indeed be a day long remembered.

.

* * *

.

The X-wing looked so tiny and fragile from up here. Leia reached out with the Force, tried to pull the TIE fighters back, tried to push Wedge's ship forward, but those actions were so far beyond her ability. The Force had failed her, had completely abandoned her.

_Leia…_

Her name, spoken across a bond created in the womb and strengthened by the Force, filled her with hope, with joy and longing. She imagined wrapping her fingers in Luke's, joined once more, stronger together than apart.

_Luke!_

She didn't need to explain anything to him. He knew everything, felt everything.

"Cal, Leia, get out of there!" Javan's voice broke her concentration for a moment, yanking her back to reality. Cal hadn't moved away from the battle station; he seemed to be in a daze, unable to fathom what was happening. Leia watched the TIE fighters closing in on Wedge and held her breath as she realized they only had a few seconds before the world ended.

It happened before she could even blink. There was an explosion in the trench that obscured her vision. She thought perhaps Wedge had fired early and missed, but then why did her mind ache from the force of her father's anger…?

"Yeeahooo!" Han Solo yelled over the comm, and she could picture him and Chewbacca and Aari punching the air with their fists as the _Millennium Falcon_ soared over her, guns blazing. Vader's wingmate swerved to avoid the laser blasts, coming too close to his master.

Leia held her breath as the two TIE fighters bounced off each other, Vader's spinning away from the Death Star, the other tumbling straight into the _Falcon's _path. It burst into a million pieces, and the _Falcon_ emerged on the other side, looping around for one last look at the Empire's secret weapon.

"You're all clear, kid, now let's blow this thing and go home!"

Leia felt an urgent tug through her twin bond and saw a brief mental image of the Death Star blowing Yavin 4 apart.

_Leia,_ her brother whispered across light-years. _Trust me._

_I do._

She closed her eyes as Wedge fired the proton torpedoes. They raced toward the exhaust port, curving down, curving as she lifted her fingers and traced a path in the air. Luke filled her senses, adding his power to hers… she could feel he was tired, was exerting himself as much as he could…the torpedoes flew down the shaft, down to the core.

"Let's go!" Wedge called out, and Leia released her hold on the torpedoes. Together, the remaining X-wings blasted away from the Death Star, joining the _Millennium Falcon_ as they flew toward Yavin 4.

The empty space around them seemed to warp and bend as the battle station exploded, creating ripples of energy that rocked their ships and ripples in the Force that screamed out in terror. The burning remains of the Death Star spun through space before finally going cold.

"Great shot, kid, that was one in a million!" Han's voice was elated, happier than she had heard it since she met him. She couldn't share those feelings, though. Not yet.

_I had to, Luke_, she whispered, ashamed that she had no tears for the millions of beings on the Death Star, men who, until recently, had been her allies. _I had to choose. I'm not coming back. _

Emotions tumbled across their twin bond, but the one she felt clearest was regret.

_I know_.

.


	22. Chapter Twenty One: Aftermath

Chapter Twenty-One: Aftermath

* * *

The moment Han stepped out of the _Falcon_, a dozen Rebels were crowded around him, cheering and hugging him and clapping him on the back. He grinned and shook hands, pressing through the crowd to find Leia and the others. Han looked back and saw Chewie caught up in several grateful embraces. His old friend motioned for him to go on ahead.

Han surged through the crowd, buoyed by the excitement that seemed to crackle in the air like electricity. He saw a large group gathered around one of the X-wings. As he pushed his way to the center, he saw Cal with one arm over Wedge's shoulders, the other arm being held in the air by his cousin, Seek. Cal and Wedge noticed Han, and if possible, their expressions brightened. They pulled him over.

"I knew you'd come back!" Cal shouted, grinning from ear to ear. He dragged Han into a surprisingly powerful hug. "I knew you would!"

Han laughed and turned to shake hands with Wedge. "I couldn't let you two take all the credit and get all the rewards."

"Thanks for saving my tail," Wedge said with a relieved smile. "I thought I was a goner for a minute there."

"Hey, where's Aari?" Cal interjected, looking past Han's shoulder. Artoo-Detoo appeared at Cal's hip, his dome swiveling back and forth as he scanned the growing mass of people.

Han chuckled. "Hiding on the _Falcon_. Talk about a time to get shy."

Cal had already disappeared into the crowd by the time Han finished speaking. He shook his head and continued searching for Leia. Artoo followed after him, chirping excitedly.

"Solo!"

He turned to see Vic and Javan breaking through the ring of celebrating Rebels. Vic slapped Han's shoulder with his good hand. "Not bad, Solo."

"The Alliance is in your debt, Captain," Javan added, smiling.

"Don't mention it," Han answered with a wave of his hand. "I'm not completely heartless, you know. Excuse me for a moment." He turned to see that Artoo had left him, lost among the celebrating Rebels. Han slowly waded toward the edge of the crowd only to see another one coming toward him. At its center was Leia.

She had both her droids with her, one on either side. The protocol droid was looking from one person to another, his face appearing completely baffled and even a little embarrassed by all of the attention.

"Oh dear," the droid muttered, raising his arms as if in alarm. Han smirked. Part of him was actually starting to like See-Threepio.

Not that he would ever tell him that.

Leia stopped when she saw Han. Parts of the crowd came to a halt while others moved on to join the other clusters of celebrating Rebels. The men and women who had been thanking Leia nodded at her and moved away to give her some room. She cocked her head to the side and stared at him, amused.

"What?" Han asked, folding his arms across his chest in mock defiance.

Artoo-Detoo whistled something at him. Leia glanced down at the little droid and rested a hand on his dome.

"I think he wants to thank you," she said.

"Mistress Leia, pardon—"

Leia raised a hand to silence Threepio.

"You can understand it?" Han wasn't sure if he believed that, although it wouldn't be the first time he'd come across a sentient who claimed to understand an astromech droid.

Leia shook her head. "Not a word. But I have a feeling."

"Oh, right. A _feeling_." He raised one eyebrow. "So did you have a feeling that I'd swoop in and rescue you?"

She fixed him with that stare, the one she could have only learned as a princess. "No. But to be fair, Captain Solo, I was a little preoccupied."

Han laughed. "You did alright, kid. You did alright." He motioned toward the group that had gathered around Wedge and the others. "It's gonna be one hell of a party tonight."

Leia nodded. "They'll have to clear out of here soon, though. The Empire will be back."

Han shook his head. Yes, she had just broken ties with her father and her old life, but the girl needed to lighten up and have some fun. A night with these crazy Rebels would do her good.

"Come on," he said with a jerk of his thumb. "Let's rejoin the party."

.

* * *

.

The cavernous meeting halls of the Great Temple were filled that night with the voices of the Rebel Alliance, some singing, some laughing, others retelling moment by moment the battle that had taken place only hours before, the battle which had seen the loss of so many dear friends in the achievement of something wonderful.

Hope.

The corridors and rooms were alive with it, more vibrant and powerful than ever. Javan didn't recognize most of the songs they sang or some of the drinks they held in their glasses, but he was filled with the spirit of hope that had prevailed. He had only been part of this Alliance for a short while, and he only knew a handful of its members by name, but it was more real and dear to him than it had ever been. He wasn't just celebrating for himself. He was celebrating for all the people of Alderaan, for his cousin Bail Organa, and for his father.

He had put together the pieces of memory from his early childhood, the ones unlocked by Darth Vader's torture. The overturned chair, the man in the cloak, the silver object shining from his belt… the Jedi had come that day to take him, but he was refused. Javan didn't know who had prevented him from being taken by the Jedi, his mother or his father. Perhaps they had agreed together that their son was more suited to life on peaceful Alderaan, with a loving family and a privileged upbringing. He didn't fault them their decision, and even understanding now that he possessed a sensitivity to the Force, he was glad that they had chosen as they did. They had saved his life without knowing it.

Javan moved through the corridors, smiling and nodding at the revelers as he went along. After a while, he found himself in the main hangar bay, where many of the Rebels had remained after the battle was over. He spotted the now familiar shape of the _Millennium Falcon_ and walked toward it, wondering if any of his recent companions had decided to hang around.

The ship's ramp was closed, and underneath he saw Cal, Aari, and a blond-haired youth no older than seventeen or eighteen sitting cross-legged on the floor. They were talking and laughing like old friends; it made Javan feel even more heartsick for his friends and colleagues on Alderaan. Someday he would find out if any of them were off planet when it was destroyed.

"Representative Madai!"

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of Aari's voice. She was waving a hand in the air to catch his attention. He smiled and stepped closer.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked, noticing that the blond boy was gaping at him.

"Not at all," Aari replied brightly.

"Sit down, Your Grace," Cal said gently, moving over to make room in their little circle.

As Javan sat, he felt his cheeks grow warm. "You really don't have to call me that. Javan is fine, really."

Aari smiled. "I've never been on a first name basis with anyone important before. It'll take some getting used to."

Javan thought to point out that she seemed quite comfortable referring to the Imperial Princess by her first name, but of course he couldn't talk about that here, in front of this boy. Curious, he turned toward the youth, looking back and forth between him and Cal.

"I think introductions, perhaps…"

Cal tapped the side of his head and laughed. "Right, sorry. This is my cousin, Seek Nightrunner. Seek, this is Representative Javan Madai of Alderaan."

Javan nodded at Seek. "You were with Cal and Wedge Antilles above the Death Star."

The boy looked down at his lap. "Yeah, that was me. Don't know how helpful I was, though. Had to pull out just before the final blow."

Javan frowned. "As I understand it, your ship was damaged and you could not have done anything more if you died trying."

"I'm personally glad you didn't," Cal said. "Die trying, that is."

"As am I," Javan added. "But this is supposed to be a party, and I think you must have been in the middle of a good story when I interrupted."

"Oh, that," Aari said with a wink at Cal. "Seek was just telling me about the time Cal got lost in Mos Eisley—"

"It's a spaceport on Tatooine."

"Right, and when they finally found him, he was sleeping on top of a… what was it, a dewback?"

"Yeah." Seek leaned forward eagerly. "It was asleep, too, tethered outside of the cantina."

Cal folded his arms across his chest. "And very comfortable, despite what you may hear."

Seek put an arm around Cal's shoulders. "Uncle Eram gave him an earful that day, let me tell you."

"How do you remember this anyway? You were five!"

"I'm the brains of the family, remember? Needless to say, Cal never went near that cantina again."

"Not true," Cal said, raising a finger. He gestured toward Aari. "That's where I met Aari." He looked at Javan. "I found Veethree just outside of Mos Eisley, as a matter of fact. He got to visit the cantina, too."

Javan grinned. "I'm sure I'm going to hear all manner of stories from him about that."

"Where is the little guy?" Aari asked.

"He's getting repaired and cleaned up. Veethree took quite a beating in his journey back to me."

Aari met Javan's eyes and smiled softly. "Well, he's a good little droid."

Javan returned her smile and let his gaze linger on her for a moment. "I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that." He put his hands on his knees and looked over at Cal and Seek. "Well, I think I'm going to retire. I haven't really slept in…" He counted off a few fingers before giving up. "Several days, at least. Enjoy the rest of your evening, everyone."

He stood up as they said their goodbyes, but as he moved to walk away, Cal jumped up and followed after him.

"Mind if I walk with you for a minute?" Cal asked.

"No, by all means." Javan fell into step beside Cal as they walked across the hangar.

"I just wanted to thank you for what you did for my mom," Cal said quietly, looking off at a distance group of men who were pouring drinks and laughing. "It means a lot."

Javan hesitated. "I'm not sure I did anything particularly special. We were locked up separately until you found us."

Cal shook his head. "You gave her hope. She knew she wasn't alone. You helped her when we were escaping, when she was injured." He drew in a long breath. "You were there when she died. You know what she lost and what I lost."

Cal stopped walking and turned to face Javan. There was intensity in his gaze that dredged up all of the pain of the last few days and brought it simmering to the surface. "I heard about your cousin, Senator Organa. He and my mother had missions to carry out, missions to fight the Empire, and now it falls to us to see them through." Cal's voice grew even quieter. "To the very end."

Javan's throat tightened as he thought of his family and Alderaan and Tani Nightrunner and the dead Rebel pilots. And for the first time since his nightmare of a journey had begun, he didn't feel alone in the universe. There was someone, at least, who knew what he had lost and what he was facing. His mouth hanging open awkwardly, Javan looked through watery eyes at the farm hand from Tatooine and knew that he – a scion of Alderaanian nobility – was about to break down in front of everyone in the hangar.

Cal reached out and put a hand on his shoulder as Javan turned his back to the rest of the hangar and covered his eyes with one hand. The brave face he had been upholding since his escape from the Death Star crumbled in a rush of silent tears. He pinched the corners of his eyes with his fingers, but nothing could stop the flow of emotion, the overwhelming sadness coupled with newfound companionship. For several minutes Cal stood there silently, his hand acting like an anchor for Javan as he passed through feelings of shame and guilt, anguish and rage.

Finally, when the tears had run their course, Javan dried his eyes and smiled wearily at Cal. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice shaky.

Looking much older and wiser than his nineteen years, Cal smiled back at him and nodded. "Anything for a friend."

.

* * *

.

The celebration lasted well into the early hours of the morning, until the light from the star Yavin peeked over the horizon, casting a faint orange glow across the Great Massassi Temple. Leia stood on one of the temple's higher balconies, leaning into the breeze. Behind her she heard a few stray Rebels stumbling down the halls, anxious to reach the warmth of their beds. She smiled to herself. They had certainly earned the rest.

It really had been quite a party. Nothing to rival the grand balls that the Emperor held on Imperial Center or the lavish parties thrown by any number of Imperial governors. But she had enjoyed it more than any of those others because for the first time she was celebrating something that mattered.

Someone walked out onto the balcony and leaned along the rail next to her. Leia glanced over at Han Solo as he took one last swig of his drink.

"Not bad," he said, examining the glass as he dangled it over the edge. "You should try some when you're old enough."

Leia rolled her eyes. "For the last time, I'm _nineteen_. I can drink whatever I want."

Han laughed and turned to avoid her as she punched him in the shoulder. "Hey, alright! The princess is a big girl, I get it."

They stood in silence for several minutes, watching the light spread over the tops of the trees.

"So what do you think you'll do now?" Han asked.

Leia shrugged. "I don't know. I was thinking about following Aari around for a while. I'm not sure I'm ready to commit full time to the Rebellion, and I think she feels the same way right now."

Han nodded. "I knew you had some common sense in their somewhere." He paused. "But you know, she doesn't have a ship anymore."

"True."

Han cleared his throat. "Chewie and me could give you a ride." He caught Leia's eye and smirked. "Don't give me that look. It would just be until you two find a new ship, that's all."

Leia smiled in return. "I don't know if you'll be able to handle it, Captain Solo, but I really can't argue with a free ride. I accept. I'll talk to Aari in the morning." She turned and took a step away from the balcony, looking over her shoulder as she did so. "I'm off to bed. Good night."

"You mean 'good morning,'" Han said with a wink.

Leia shook her head and laughed. "See you at the ceremony, captain."

Behind her she heard Han groan.

.

* * *

.

Aari was walking through the hangar the morning of the ceremony when she noticed Cal and Vic sitting on a couple of crates beside a damaged Y-wing. They weren't really talking, just sitting there, watching everyone else go by. Aari veered off of her original path and strolled over to the crates.

"I see you've made yourselves comfortable," she said wryly as she stopped in front of them.

Vic shrugged. "Figured I might as well, seeing as how I'm going to be around these people a lot for the next few years."

Aari was taken aback. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out when Vic the sleazy middleman had become Vic the do-gooder. "A few years?" was all she managed to say.

"Yeah, I thought I might stay with the Alliance for a while. Turns out they need good starship techs."

"You? A technician?"

Vic gave her a half-grin and cocked one eyebrow. "I guess there's a lot you don't know about me."

Aari frowned. "Right." She turned to Cal. "What about you, kid? You coming with me and Leia?"

Cal shook his head and glanced sidelong at Vic. "No, I'm staying with the Alliance, too. I think I might actually like flying an X-wing. Besides, I'm not going to leave now that I've found my cousin again."

Aari felt a twinge of regret. In the short time that she'd known Cal, she'd become attached to him, even a little protective. She would miss him. "Seek seems like a great kid. I thought he'd be here with you."

Cal leaned back and looked in all directions. "He's around somewhere. Probably getting cleaned up." A guilty look flashed across his face. "Speaking of which, I need to get cleaned up myself. Should be nice; I haven't had a real shower with water and everything in years."

He noticed Aari and Vic's bewildered stares. "Desert planet," he explained. "We had sonic showers."

Aari whistled. "Right, well don't let me keep you. And, er, enjoy the water."

Vic raised both eyebrows in amusement as Cal hurried out of the hangar. "Enjoy the water?"

"Shut up." She hoisted herself up onto the crate Cal had just vacated.

Vic hummed quietly to himself for a moment before turning to Aari. "So I hear you got plenty of credits for helping the Alliance."

"Didn't _you_?"

He shrugged. "I guess I would have. I gave them back since I'm going to be working for the Alliance now."

"How noble of you."

"Seemed like the right thing to do." He glanced at his boots. "I _will_ get you the money I owe you."

Aari waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I've got enough for now."

"All the same, I made a promise."

"Okay, sure. I'll collect on it someday." She sighed. "I would say this is the end of a beautiful partnership, but it really wasn't all that beautiful, was it?"

Vic smirked. "No? I personally loved having you pull a blaster on me half the time."

Aari pointed a finger at him. "Don't start."

He raised his arms – the right one still in its sling – in mock surrender. "Kidding. I'm only kidding." He jumped down from the crate and turned toward her, extending his left hand. "Truce?"

Aari felt a smile tug at her lips. "Sure," she said, taking his hand in hers. "For now."

Vic grinned. "That's my girl."

"Vic…"

"Last time, I promise."

Aari groaned, but she couldn't help smiling. She might miss him, just a little. "Come on, we've got a big ceremony to get ready for."

.

* * *

.

Mara groaned as she touched a hand to the bandage wrapped around her head. "I'm sure this isn't necessary."

The medic looked at her over his chart and frowned. "You suffered a head wound and a mild concussion. I'd say it's absolutely necessary." He scribbled something on the chart and tucked it under his arm. "Bacta treatment for the thigh wound, a few days rest for the head… you'll be out of here soon, don't worry."

Mara rolled her eyes, but somehow even that action hurt. She rested her head against the pillows. "Fine."

The medic smiled at her. "If you need anything, the droids will be available day and night. I'll be back early in the morning to check on you."

Mara wondered why she, the Emperor's Hand, didn't have access to a human doctor day and night; but that probably wasn't something this medic knew, so she let him leave without asking any more questions.

The bandage was really starting to itch when someone appeared at the edge of her bed. "Hello, Mara Jade."

Mara resisted the urge to scratch and sighed. "What do you want?"

Rennal had one hand on a rolling chair, which he positioned in front of him. "Came to see how you were doing." He sat down backwards in the chair, his elbows propped up on the back support. She could see a bulge under his shirt where a bandage was wrapped around his midsection.

Mara pursed her lips. "I didn't ask you to."

"You don't have to ask, Jade. It's called being nice."

She snorted. "Since when are you nice?"

He smiled that creepy smile. "I'm not, but I know enough to pretend."

"Well, you're wasting your time here. I'm fine, and I don't need your help. Besides, shouldn't _you_ be in bed, too?"

She expected him to make some smart remark about it being her fault they were in there, but he didn't say a word. When she looked at him, she saw that his eyes had gone foggy, like he was trying to peer back through time. He inhaled, and suddenly something shone from inside him. An epiphany, perhaps, gleaming through the Force.

"_That's_ why the old man wanted me," the assassin laughed. He smacked the side of the bed and continued to laugh wildly. The sight was more than a little bizarre.

"What's so funny?" Mara asked suspiciously. Rennal's mood swings were as violent as the man himself, and she did not want to be on the wrong end of another attack. "Why does my master want you?"

Rennal let out a long breath and stilled his laughter. "To help _you_. To train you in the ways of an assassin."

"What?" The idea was preposterous; it made no sense at all. Surely her master's instruction was sufficient? "The Emperor has trained me since I was a child; what makes you think he'd need _your_ help?"

Rennal's eyes glistened with the excitement of realization. "No, don't you get it? He wants you to help me, too. You can teach me about the Force. The old windbag does some of the work, but ultimately we improve each other." He looked at her as if expecting a positive reaction.

Mara blinked. "That's it?"

The assassin cocked one dark eyebrow. "No one ever accused me of being brilliant, but I'd say it's a solid theory."

Mara folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the bed pillows. "I wouldn't be the best example of Force power. The Emperor says I only have limited potential."

The man appeared puzzled. "How so?"

Mara hesitated. As grateful as she was that he was talking civilly instead of strangling her half to death, Rennal's newfound enthusiasm was unsettling. How much should she really be telling him? Knowledge was power, and she couldn't afford to give him the upper hand. She didn't trust him, especially not after his attack on her, but he had saved her life. And now here they were, having what might be considered a normal conversation.

_At least my damned stomach has stopped hurting, thank the Force._

"I can hear him," she said at last. If she didn't tell Rennal, her master probably would. He seemed to enjoy pitting his servants against one another. "I can hear his voice anywhere in the galaxy. He says that's how he found me in the first place."

Rennal actually looked intrigued. He ran one finger across his chin. "So all you can do is hear him?"

Mara shrugged. "I have control of the Force, but my lightsaber skills are rudimentary, and my telekinesis isn't much better. For the most part, I use the Force to augment my other skills, the ones my training focuses on."

"But telepathy is your strength?"

"It's not really telepathy," she said haltingly. This was a difficult subject to understand, let alone explain. "It's more like empathy. I can feel the thoughts being carried through the Force, and my mind translates them into words. It's similar, but not exactly the same."

"Interesting." Rennal looked over his shoulder at the medical droid milling about the front of the room. He smirked and pointed his finger. As he did so, two metal instruments slid off the tray it was carrying. The droid sputtered in its own language and bent over to retrieve the tools.

Mara watched the scene stoically. "I'm glad to see you've improved your skills enough to harass medical droids. Well done."

"I remember people," Rennal said as he turned back around, ignoring Mara's criticism.

"Congratulations."

Rennal smiled darkly. "You've got attitude, Jade, I'll give you that. A few months with me and you might have the skill to match it." She rolled her eyes at this. He gestured rudely and continued. "I've always been able to remember people, since I was little. It's something about their presences in the Force that allows me to memorize their faces and voices. I remember everyone I come in contact with, and I can find them again, no matter where they are."

"That's useful. But how did you know it was the Force? Who told you?"

His expression soured. "I just knew. Stop trying to dig, you know it won't get you anywhere." He sighed as if disappointed, but Mara sensed a coldness under the surface. "Don't you have something, some memory or secret you don't want him to know?"

By him he certainly meant the Emperor. Her master probably knew everything there was to know about her. Still, in a deep corner of her mind she did entertain the thought that Palpatine might not know _everything_, that she had at least one secret. She wished she knew what it was. "No," she answered. Her head was starting to throb.

"Well, I have mine, and I'd prefer to keep it that way." He stood up from his chair and rolled it back to the desk across the room. "I'll let you rest now." He left the medbay without even glancing back at her.

_Insufferable man. _

Mara closed her eyes and went to sleep.

.

* * *

_.  
_

_She looks so peaceful_, Luke thought as he stood at Mara's bedside. _I've never seen her sleep._

She was breathing steadily, her head tilted slightly toward him. Her hair was loose around her face, forming little red-gold waves against the white pillows. Luke reached out and stroked a stray lock with his thumb. She let out a tiny whimper but didn't wake. Luke smiled and pulled his hand away. He doubted anyone had ever seen her like this.

It was a good thing Mara hadn't woken up – she would have broken his arm.

_Always fighting_. He reached out again, hesitating for a few seconds before running his fingertips along her smooth cheek.

_What becomes of us, Mara?_

He hadn't thought he would miss her much when he was gone, but when he'd realized she was in danger, he felt – well, he just knew that he never wanted to feel that way again.

Luke stood there for another minute, watching her chest rise gently with each breath. When thinking of Mara, it was hard not to imagine her in action, whether she fighting him with words, fists, or a lightsaber. But he also wanted to remember her this way, in this moment. It was probably the only time he would get this close to her without being pushed away.

_Goodbye, Mara. Stay safe while I'm gone._

Luke turned away, shouldered the sack that held his provisions, and walked out of the medical center, closing the door behind him. A transmission would be arriving soon, a private message from the Emperor's emissary to the Emperor himself; and when that happened, Luke wanted – no, _needed_ – to be as far from Imperial Center as possible. He couldn't be sure whether his father had sensed his involvement in the destruction of the Death Star. Better to avoid his wrath for now and return later, when he'd had time to cool from Leia's betrayal.

He laughed bitterly at that thought. Leia, a traitor? Only as much as a frightened, confused, angry teenager could be. They had never been loyal to the Empire, and their father knew it, whether he was willing to admit it or not. Imperial Prince and Princess, indeed. Puppets, that's all they were ever meant to be. Objects to be molded in the way the Sith Master saw fit.

Their father was the traitor, if anyone was. Leia would never have turned on him without reason. He still felt her distress, her pain. It lingered in the place their twin bond occupied, a reminder of what he had lost when Darth Vader decided being a Sith Lord was more important than being a father. He had taken Luke's twin from him, and now the prince was going to get her back.

It was likely that he wouldn't find her, that she would shield herself to protect him. The journey might take months, even years, if she was stubborn. And in time, he would have to make a choice: cut all ties and follow Leia's path, or return to the Imperial Palace and take his place as his father's new apprentice. In order to protect his sister, he was willing to do either.

There was a third option, though. One that had been tumbling about the back of his mind for the last several days, maturing slowly. It was planted there by his visions, nurtured by thoughts of his sister, who was now so far away that it was a strain to reach her. The third option violated everything he had been brought up to believe in, and he had no way of knowing whether it could even be accomplished.

But if it was the surest way of protecting Leia, he would find a way.

Luke glanced down at the datapad he had pulled from his pocket. Before visiting Mara in the medbay, he had done a search on his own private computer terminal. It was not the type of search his father or the Emperor would approve of. If he came back, he would explain that he was merely looking for answers to the strange visions that had plagued him of late. If he did not come back, then it really didn't matter what topics he researched.

There had been precious little on the HoloNet about the subject of his search, but it was a start. The words on his datapad were the first step toward making that dangerous third option a reality. He could feel the Force pulling him in this direction, urging him to pursue this new path. He read the words on the screen over and over, repeating them like a mantra in his head.

_Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master._

_Traitor to the Galactic Empire. _

_Captured and executed, 16:5:26._

Only one name had come up in his search for the "Obi-Wan" of his visions. As Luke suspected, the man had been a Jedi.

And he was executed the same day Luke and Leia were born.

.

* * *

.

With his hyperdrive damaged in the battle over the Death Star, Darth Vader limped through subspace for several days before reaching the Imperial outpost on Vaal. He hadn't eaten. He hadn't slept. He had entered a state of hibernation only because his ship lacked life support systems, but he would have gladly foregone the trance if he could have. He wanted to feed the rage burning within him, feed it with continuous thoughts of Leia's betrayal, feed it by depriving himself of the things required to sustain life. He did not – did _not_ – want to reflect or think or dream. Unadulterated anger, while less useful in most circumstances, was what he craved right now.

The soldiers at the outpost seemed to recognize this instantly, and despite their sloppy appearance and their lax upkeep of the outpost, they had the holotransceiver room ready for him when he arrived. He swept past their pathetic, quivering forms. Weaklings, all of them. No wonder they'd been assigned to this corner of the galaxy. At least they'd managed to keep the _Lambda _-class shuttle outside safe from the vicious predators he'd sensed on this planet. Nevertheless, he would be sure to replace them with a new crew once he left.

Vader closed off the room from prying eyes and stepped onto the transmitter platform. As he kneeled and bowed his head, the vidscreen above him activated, revealing a larger-than-life image of the Emperor on his throne.

"You have failed me, Lord Vader," he said before Vader could speak.

"Yes, my master." How did he—?

"I sensed the Death Star's destruction." Once again, the Emperor was one step ahead of his servant. "I assume you are the only survivor."

"I am."

The Emperor gave a stiff nod. "Disappointing." He paused here and stared at Vader as if peering into his soul. "And the princess?"

Vader was unable to conceal the muscle that twitched in his cheek at the mention of his daughter. "Gone. She has betrayed the Empire." It was so much easier to say it that way, as though she were any other Imperial defector.

The Emperor appeared to mull over this news, although he seemed much less bothered than Vader would have thought. "Do not concern yourself with her fate, Lord Vader. Princess Ember is dead." He leaned back in his throne, throwing his face into shadow. "This may work to our advantage," he mused.

Vader narrowed his eyes a fraction, but he was about to nod in agreement when a slight movement behind the Emperor caught his attention. Curious as to whom his master would allow to listen to their conversation, Vader cast an inconspicuous glance at the person beyond the throne. What he saw startled him, and he had to stop himself from physically flinching.

The man had wild, dark red hair and the demeanor of a dangerous, caged animal. He seemed to know that Vader was focusing on him; his dusk-colored eyes were locked on the Dark Lord. After a second fleeting glance Vader knew there was no mistake. Whoever this man was, he appeared to be nothing less than the carbon copy of a Jedi Knight who had died fifteen years earlier. There was no doubt that the Jedi in question had been killed – Vader had driven his scarlet lightsaber blade through the man's heart. There were only two possible explanations for why the man should now be standing in the Emperor's throne room.

Either Mara Jade's father had been cloned, or he'd had a son long before he ever had a daughter.

.

* * *

.

The Emperor leaned forward on his throne as his Hand entered the room and kneeled before him. Mara bowed her head, waiting for acknowledgement.

He studied her for a moment before speaking. "It pleases me to see you recovered."

"Thank you, Master. How may I serve you?" There was the faintest tremor in the Force as she spoke.

The Emperor allowed himself a satisfied smile. He'd known for a while that Mara's loyalty to him was becoming more dependent on fear than on respect. Her friendship with Vader's spawn had left her suspicious of his motives; now that the princess was on the run, it was possible that Mara might question his authority.

He decided that her fear was irrelevant. With the arrival of Aidan Rennal, Palpatine had found a new way to bring young Mara back under his sway.

"Mara, my child. I have a very important assignment for you. It concerns the Rebels who tried to kill me."

"So they _were_ Rebels?"

"Indeed. Intelligence has determined the identities of the dead they left behind, but only one interests me: the leader, Rabé Drassian."

"I've never come across the name."

By now the Emperor's smile had faded. His thoughts turned briefly to the memories that name conjured up. "She was a former handmaiden of Queen Amidala of Naboo." He let the information sink in before he continued. "I want you to find out who else was involved in this plot."

"Yes, my lord." Mara looked as though she wanted to say something else, but she closed her mouth and bowed her head.

"You seem troubled, my child."

"No, my lord, it's only…" She looked around as though searching for the right words. "Is it true that Princess Ember and Prince Shade have betrayed us?"

He had expected this question. "It is true that the princess has turned traitor. Officially, however, she was killed by the same Rebels who attempted to murder me. As for young Shade, he has apparently taken it upon himself to track his sister down. For now, I believe he remains loyal to the Empire." Oh, but the boy would certainly be punished when he returned. Until then, he might prove useful in hunting down the princess.

Mara seemed satisfied with his answer. "I understand," she said softly.

The Emperor considered her for a moment, tapping his fingers on the arm of his throne. "While you carry out your mission, I want you to begin construction of your own lightsaber."

Mara was unable to disguise her surprise and pleasure. She bowed deeply. "I am honored, my lord."

"You will find instructions in your quarters. Do not allow this task to interfere with your investigation."

"Everything will be done as you wish, Master."

"Good. Now go."

There was the tiniest hint of hesitation as Mara stepped forward to take his hand. The Emperor sent the feelings of warmth and affection that he had mastered as kindly Senator Palpatine. He felt Mara relax considerably. Then she turned on her heel and strode past the Imperial guards. The Emperor watched her until the turbolift doors closed in front of her.

"You may come out now."

Aidan Rennal detached himself from the shadows and came around to kneel before the Emperor. "You summoned me?"

"Yes. I have an assignment for you as well. You are to follow Mara, make sure her progress in this investigation is satisfactory, and if there is anyone that needs eliminating, you will take care of it."

"Isn't the Emperor's Hand capable of killing people on her own?"

"She is, and she will. But if she cannot follow through for some reason, _you_ will finish the job."

Rennal stared up at him, his face surprisingly unreadable. "I understand."

"Good. I expect to partner you with Mara in the future, but for now, you have your orders. Do not reveal your presence unless it is absolutely necessary."

"Yes, my lord." Rennal stood slowly, his eyes never leaving the Emperor's. He bowed his head and turned toward the turbolift.

_Treachery is the way of the Sith,_ the Emperor thought to himself as Rennal stalked past the guards. He could see that betrayal lurked somewhere in the man's future, but for now he would prove a useful tool. His powers were too weak to be any kind of threat to the Master of the Sith.

He felt a strange sensation rush through him. It was an intense feeling of victory, almost as potent as that fateful day nineteen years earlier, when all of his plans had finally come to fruition. He could see the end goal, the culmination of decades of patience and dark calculations.

Padmé Amidala's wretched daughter could become the Rebellion's greatest hero, for all he cared. There could be only one victor, and the Force had shown him time and again who it would be.

.


	23. Epilogue

Epilogue

* * *

The Grand Audience Chamber of the Great Temple was filled with Rebel troops, personnel, and surviving pilots, all of them facing the entrance expectantly. Leia stood among them in one of the rows closest to the dais, waiting patiently for the doors to open. To her right were her two droids, both polished and shining like new. To her left stood Vic, looking around the room with a thoughtful expression on his face. He had declined Javan's offer to be among those honored, just as Leia had. Their reasons were different – she wasn't sure what Vic's were, but she had explained to Javan that it might not be in the Alliance's best interest to celebrate the daughter of Darth Vader as one of their heroes, even if her identity was concealed. He had agreed. Besides, no one else realized what she'd actually done above the Death Star.

As an arrangement of triumphant music began to play, Leia glanced up at the people standing on the dais. Javan stood at the center of the group, dressed in crisp white tunic and pants, a silver ceremonial sash wrapped around him from his left shoulder to right hip. On either side of him were Generals Dodonna and Sewell, Commander Willard, and the other Rebel leaders. Leia caught Javan's eye, and he gave her a polite nod.

The massive doors at the end of the chamber slid open, and the heroes of Yavin stepped into the light. They stood there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder. Han was at one end and Cal at the other, with Aari, Chewie, and Wedge between them. Chewie towered over the rest of them, and as they began to walk down the narrow aisle, he and Aari fell into step behind the others to make more room.

They approached the dais with a sort of reverence, climbing the steps as the entire audience turned to face Javan and the generals. Leia noticed in particular the eagerness in Cal's face as the group stopped one step below Javan.

The entire chamber felt as though it was aglow with anticipation. There was an underlying current of solemnity, of sadness for those who had been lost, but there was bright, burning hope, too.

With the exception of Han and Chewie, the battle's heroes had been cleaned up and given fresh clothes. Wedge cut a dashing figure in his blue jacket and dark trousers, and even Cal and Aari managed to look polished in plain dark tunics and beige pants.

Then there was Han and Chewie, smugglers who were in the wrong place at the wrong time and somehow managed to become heroes. Leia was not at all surprised that they were dressed no differently for this occasion. Han was reluctant to revel in the ceremony, but as soon as he stepped onto the dais, Leia sensed him straighten up, following Chewie's lead. The Wookiee seemed more comfortable than any of them, almost as if he had done this before.

General Dodonna handed Javan a medal, which the Alderaanian placed around Han's neck. The smuggler grinned and tilted his head to the right, looking into the crowd. He caught Leia's eye and winked. She shook her head and tried not to laugh as Han returned his attention to the ceremony, a big smile on his face.

Javan awarded each of them with a medal. He had to stand on his toes to get the ribbon over Chewie's head, but he accomplished it without incident. When he had finished with Cal and Aari, Javan turned finally to Wedge.

It didn't matter to Leia that she had helped guide those torpedoes. She had a feeling that even if she hadn't been there, Wedge would have found a way. She was certain of it.

Wedge bowed his head, and as the ribbon slipped around his neck, Leia noticed tears in the eyes of several Rebels, even a few of the men and women on the dais.

Javan nodded at each of the honorees, and then they turned in unison to face the crowd. Cheers erupted throughout the chamber, caps flew into the air, and at the center of it all, three men, one woman, and a Wookiee exchanged embarrassed glances with one another.

See-Threepio leaned his head close to hers. "Mistress Leia, I don't understand why you were not among those honored today. You played a pivotal role in both the rescue of Representative Madai and the attack on the Death Star."

Leia patted him on his golden shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Threepio. This is where I want to be."

The droid eyed her silently for a moment. Even though his gaze never changed, somehow his expression suggested confusion. "Most humans have a desire to celebrate happy events with their friends."

Friends.

She hadn't thought of them like that until now; just hearing the word filled her with a happiness she hadn't known since she was a small child. It almost made her forget about how much she ached to see her brother again.

Leia smiled up at her friends. "That's true, Threepio," she answered quietly, nearly drowned out by the cheers. "But I _am_ celebrating with them."

_I'm home, Luke. For the first time, I'm home._

_.  
_

* * *

Fin Part One

.

Thank you to everyone who has left feedback or simply read this story over the last several years. I appreciate your comments, criticisms, and support. I truly hope that you'll be intrigued enough to take a peek at Part Two once I get it up and running. I'm not through with this story yet!

The saga continues in _**The Dark Fire Chronicles: Night Must Fall**_

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